Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite
by Steampunk.Chuckster
Summary: What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.
1. Chapter 1

**Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite**

Muaaahahahahahahahahahahaaaaa! It's the 11th anniversary of the CHUCK pilot premiering on NBC! We couldn't NOT do this.

From the minds of **Steampunk . Chuckster** and **David . Carner** comes the fic you didn't even know you wanted, but you're getting anyway... _Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite_. This is just for fun, written and updated when we both have the time. We may or may not follow canon exactly, depending on what we'd like to include, change, revamp, rework to suit our own ideas. Expanding on scenes we wanted to see, adding scenes we would've liked to be in the show. And maybe even taking things out we don't like. Because we're stinkers. We hope you enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK, we don't own the CHUCK characters, and we're making no money off of this, but maybe send help because we're having way too much fun and this is dangerous.

* * *

The text had come in the morning. She'd heard her phone beep across the room, and she'd stayed right where she was, in the semi-darkness of the kitchen, blinds drawn as tightly as she could possibly make them. She'd thought about drinking, taking the bottle out from the back of the cupboard and just pounding it. But that was stupid and foolish and it wouldn't change anything. And anyway, she didn't want to forget. She wanted this to stay in her mind forever...yet another reason to leave, to walk away, an example of the utter bullshit the CIA had put her through in the last ten years of her life.

Worse than that, though, she needed to know that no matter where she went or what happened, her choices wouldn't endanger anyone she cared about, her choices wouldn't destroy an innocent child's life. Whether she stayed or left, she wanted to remember what had happened, what she'd done. She wouldn't be upset if she ended up forgetting everything else she'd done in the last decade. But there was no chance in hell that would happen. She was stuck with it. And the blood would stay on her hands no matter what she did to try to forget.

She knew who the text was from. Nobody else even had the number. She'd trashed the phone she'd been using before, and Graham had provided her with a new one when she'd returned to Langley. Now he was texting her. A new mission, no doubt. Already. Not even giving her a chance to get back to breathing. Not that she was sure she even wanted that.

And so she stayed standing there, palms on the countertops, staring down at the swirling patterns of the granite in the dark. What was she even doing? What was this existence? Was it even an existence? Because some days she wondered if she technically even existed. Her badge read Sarah Walker, the colleagues that deigned to speak with her called her Agent Walker, when they weren't whispering "Ice Queen" or "Graham's wildcard enforcer" behind her back. But she felt like a ghost. Or, worse yet, some sort of specter. Like she haunted the hallways of Langley, haunted the Earth in general.

She rolled her eyes at herself and left the kitchen, walking over to grab her phone from the coffee table, passing a room that was sparsely furnished, no decorations, nothing that made this place a home. She had nothing to put up, and she refused to go to one of those World Market type places to buy some too-expensive print of some ocean seascape to hang on the wall. For whom, exactly? No one ever came inside her apartment, and she sure as hell wasn't going to do it for herself.

The text from the unlisted number was short and simple: _My office. Noon. LG_

Just as she'd thought. Another mission. Graham was well aware of what she'd been through, what she'd had to do, the person she'd had to say goodbye to. And here he was thrusting her right back into it, as though her entire world hadn't been rocked by the last week's events. Maybe he didn't know how bad it had affected her. Maybe she did a good enough job pretending none of this affected her. The Ice Queen.

Whatever.

It would be okay. She'd show up, get her mission, and get on a plane to fly halfway across the world again. It would give her time to really think through all of this. To make decisions. Maybe she would have something to actually say to Director Langston Graham once she got back from her mission, something to explain to him that being here, doing this, was too much now. It had gotten too overwhelming, too...a lot.

Or maybe she wouldn't do that. Because what else was even out there for someone who'd killed as often as she had in the last ten years, the last five especially? Lives she'd ruined, innocent people she'd had to betray...all for the good of the country. That was what her superiors said, and it was in her contract to believe it when they said it. Or at least to pretend. And she had been pretending. For years.

She huffed in frustration with herself and grabbed her coat. If she didn't hurry, she'd miss her appointment. And as disillusioned as she was with...well, everything...she refused to compromise when it came to timeliness.

An hour later, she stood in front of Director Graham's desk as he drummed his fingers on a file. The room was silent, an uncomfortable silence, but she wasn't going to be the first to speak. He'd brought her here, hadn't he? And not the other way around.

That file under his hand was a mission, she knew. What kind of mission, she couldn't know for sure. Assassination? Maybe. She wouldn't put it past the CIA to take an agent who'd just dealt with a traitorous handler and had been forced to massacre a building full of people and thrust her right back into a situation that required her to kill again.

"It's good to have you back, Agent Walker." Graham sat back against his chair and looked at her for a moment. It wasn't what she'd expected to hear. "Sometimes when an agent goes through what you did, we lose 'em."

She said what she thought he might want to hear, knowing he was potentially testing out the water, seeing how she responded to his attempt at softness, understanding. Seeing if she really was still considering leaving. She wouldn't give him anything, though. So she responded quickly.

"Well, you're not gonna lose me, Sir." She paused. "But I am done with handlers." That one she meant with every last part of her.

"Oh, I agree," he said, folding his hands on his desk and looking up at her, that understanding still in his face. "In fact, _I_ think that it's time for you to _become one_."

That was...unexpected. She could feel the stony mask she'd walked into the room with fall away, surprise on her face instead.

"I have a new assignment for you," he continued, sliding the file over his desk towards her. She lowered her eyes to it, raising her eyebrows in genuine interest. "Something stateside." That was also a perk.

She reached down to pick it up, opening it to the first page. The name was there in bold, printed letters. Charles Bartowski. Above it, they'd clipped a picture of the man. It only took her a moment to get the gist of what she was expected to do. Extraction of information from this Bartowski guy. And by the looks of him-the messy hair, the lack of self-esteem in his closed-mouth smile, like he's just...going through the motions of life-it'd be easier than anything else she'd ever done for the CIA.

So maybe Graham was going a little easy on her, this time.

"Think you can handle it?" he asked, with a tone and a look that told her he knew she could handle it. They both did. She just smirked back at him.

But then she spotted something in his eyes. After ten years of working under him, all the way back to when he'd blackmailed her into the Farm at seventeen years old, she'd secretly picked up on his tells. But she wasn't letting this one go. "Is there a catch?" she asked boldly. "There's a catch, isn't there?"

He glanced to the side and let out a frustrated sigh. "You see too much for your own good."

She disagreed. But she didn't say anything.

"This is top secret, Agent Walker."

"Who am I gonna tell, Sir? My _friends_?" she asked with a bit of a roll of her eyes. That earned her a look and she straightened her spine a little. "Sorry. What exactly is this?"

"I don't trust that anyone can handle this the way you can. I need it to be fast, painless."

"You want me to kill this guy?"

"No," he said quickly. "At least, I don't think that should be necessary. For all we know, he's an innocent bystander. But just in case he isn't, I need you to be there. I need you to suss Bartowski out. I want to know if he worked with Bryce."

Sarah's head snapped up from the file. "Bryce?" she asked quietly. There was the catch. She thought she'd been finished with all of that.

"Bryce sent him something that we need. It's on his home computer. You need to make contact, find out if this guy could be working with the rogue agent, Bryce Larkin. And if he is, we need to either bring him in or…dispose of him." He looked pained as he finished the statement. But Sarah knew it was an act. She wasn't stupid. And it stung that he was trying it anyway as though he thought she was stupid enough to fall for it.

She knew better than to believe one picture, but she couldn't help but wonder if this Charles guy was simply caught up in this because Bryce was a selfish, conniving asshole who'd dragged him in. He looked...sad. As mean as that sounded. At the most, she could imagine Bryce threatening or blackmailing him to help.

But she just nodded and closed the file. "Yessir."

"We need to know why Bryce sent this program with highly sensitive material on it to a civilian, and why _this_ civilian in particular. Get to know him. I'll leave that part to your discretion. Ask him questions. Feel him out. And we're going to need you to get that hard drive from his apartment. Bring it back to Langley and we'll figure out just how much of that program Bryce sent."

Frustration and annoyance was in his face, and as much as she hated Bryce for going rogue, for betraying her, for betraying the CIA, a part of her envied him for having the guts to do something that pissed Graham off this bad. She'd never want to be in Bryce's shoes, but God, sometimes she wanted to snap at this man sitting behind his desk, handing off files that would change the trajectory of people's lives if not end them altogether like it was nothing more than a homework assignment in a seventh grade pre-algebra class.

"Understood, Sir."

"You have one hour to pack. Everything will be taken care of by the time you arrive in Burbank. Like I said, Agent Walker...Sarah…" She nearly winced. "Get this done quickly. Three days max. You might even have some vacation time awaiting you when you get back."

She wouldn't even give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that. Instead, she gathered the folder under her arm. "Is that all, Sir?"

"Yes, Agent. You're dismissed. And...good luck." He didn't have to say _Don't let me down_ because it was in his face, behind the wan smile he'd plastered there.

"Thank you, Sir."

She made quick work of getting out of his office, walking down the hallway, needing to get out of the building altogether.

 _Get to know him. I'll leave that part to your discretion._

Sarah's eyes slipped shut as she stopped around the corner, leaning back against the wall. Her discretion. Did that mean she could kidnap him, take him to a warehouse, tie him to a chair, and ask him what he had to do with all of this with the tip of her knife pressed to his jugular? No, most likely not. Especially if the CIA wanted this to be "painless" like Graham had said. And so, she knew what was expected of her, something she'd done a handful of times before. A quick, chance, fly-by-night encounter, a date maybe to get him comfortable and talking, a few hours of time spent with him so that she could observe, pick apart his person, discover any hidden identity, any motives that might align him with Bryce. Was he sincere, or a liar? And if he was a liar, was he simply just like everyone else-the guy who lied about trivial things to impress people, or to get out of going to a birthday party he didn't want to go to? Or was he specifically the type of liar who worked with traitors and turncoats, rogue spies?

Either way, she'd get the information she needed, steal his hard drive, and get out. Just like always, she wouldn't give him even an inkling of a chance to look at her sideways or lay a hand on her.

She was on the plane an hour later, watching things whiz past her window as it took off, and then she sat back against her seat and wondered if she had the courage to make this her last mission. That was if, and only if, she was even allowed to make that kind of a decision. She hadn't joined the CIA by choice. And there were times it still felt like...something of a prison. What would Graham say if she stood at his desk and told him she wanted to leave the CIA? Would he laugh and shake his head? Would he be angry? Call her ungrateful? Remind her of what her life might've been like if he hadn't given her a chance to be on the side of the "good guys"? Prison maybe, like her father. Or worse.

But could she keep doing this? A three day mission, easy in and easy out, would be nothing at all. But these weren't the types of missions she'd be sent on if she didn't leave.

And she knew she'd done enough to keep them safe, whether she had to leave the CIA or not. She'd meant what she said when she looked at her mom with that baby in her arms. She couldn't come back. Ever. That wasn't going to change whether she tried to start a new life outside of the agency or not. Too much was at stake.

She brushed aside the tear that made its way down her cheek.

}o{

 _One week earlier..._

She stood there, staring at her Mom and the little baby. Emma had a pleading look on her face. "This is your home, too. It doesn't have to be this way."

She played with her fingers, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. Part of her had been afraid, leaving this little girl at her mom's doorstep, wondering if it would be the right fit for the child, for her mom. But they looked right. Her mom holding this baby...it looked so natural, and she was relieved, but there was also an ache in her that threatened to leave her reeling.

But she couldn't. And she wouldn't. No matter how many regrets were flooding through her at seeing her mom again.

"Mom, I've thought a lot about this and I can't stay. Because for both of you to be safe, well, I can never see you again." It hurt even worse to say it out loud, as much as it had hurt her to think, over and over and over again while she made the journey to her mom's house. She'd solidified it in her mind, she was resolved, and now she'd said it and it felt so unfair. Necessary. And unfair.

Emma simply looked away, fighting back tears. As though she had known what her daughter would say.

She took a deep breath and continued. Because this was the part that really mattered. This was the part that had made the decision for her. "When the CIA recruited me, I was on the run with Dad. We changed identities so much they never knew you existed. And we can't let them find out about you now."

"When you were a little girl, all I ever wanted for you was a normal life. But you went off with your father, and he was never one to..." She sighed heavily, looking away, her voice breaking. Unlike what she remembered experiencing when she was a child, the frustration in her mom's tone when she talked about how irresponsible her father was, instead, Sarah just saw regret. Regret for the life Sarah'd missed out on. "You just-You never got to go trick-or-treating or play on the soccer team or get to go to prom or homecoming. I just wish I could have given you at least some of that."

Sarah nodded once, blinking back tears. Because what could she really say? That she'd wanted that too? It was done. Too late for her now. She felt the weight of Molly's rattle in her back pocket and she quickly grabbed it, thrusting it in front of her. "Um...Don't forget this." She handed the rattle to Emma. "Um, yeah, she likes to be wrapped up in a blanket." She rushed on, talking nervously, making more hand gestures than she ever remembered. "It helps her sleep. And the sound of the rain, she likes the sound of the rain. And I've noticed-"

Emma cut her off, knowing what Sarah was doing. "It's okay, honey." Sarah just stared at Emma, heartbroken. "I'll take good care of her."

Sarah bit back tears and spoke softly. "Yeah, I know. I know." She turned to leave, went halfway down the stairs, and stopped. She had to. She needed to make sure this was the right thing. That she'd not only saved this child, but that she was giving her a life that was so much better than hers had been. For so many reasons. Her mom's long trips away from home as a traveling nurse, the amount of times she had to sit quietly and watch TV with her grandma who babysat her, the unrivaled joy of her dad showing up at the door to take her on another adventure, and everything else that had led to this moment. She didn't want that kind of life for this little girl. She needed to know her mom wouldn't do this again.

She turned and looked up, her fingers tapping on the porch railing. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

She struggled with what to say, because she didn't want her mom to feel guilty. She didn't want her mom drowning in regrets and thinking what had happened to her was her fault. It was the past and it wouldn't help anyone to dwell on all of that. She had to say this the right way, without bitterness or regret.

"Going to prom and soccer games and, uh...and all those normal things that you wanted for me…?" Her voice was full of emotion. She fought back tears. "Will you just make sure that she gets them?"

Emma nodded, tears pooled in her eyes. "Of course I will."

Sarah believed her. With everything in her, she believed her mom. She'd done the right thing bringing that baby here. And this, all of this, was the right thing to do. Leaving and not looking back. In spite of the secret conversations she'd begun having in the last year or two with her mom, late night phone calls, never able to mention anything about her missions, but hearing about her mom's nurse work, the garden she was planting...small but normal things that settled Sarah. That was finished now. For her mom's safety, for the baby's safety. And it hurt, but it was right.

They both knew beyond all doubt that it was too late for Sarah to get any of that normalcy back. Her life was laid out in front of her now. Her mom wasn't pushing more than she already had when she first arrived with the baby in her arms.

"Thank you." Sarah wasn't sure if her mom understood just how deep that 'thank you' was, just how many things she was thanking her for. For everything. But she turned and left quickly, forcing herself not to turn back.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a taste, just a taste...Until next time, Chucksters! Enjoy the rest of the anniversary... Maybe watch the pilot. (wink!)

-SC and DC


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks everyone for reading our first chapter and reviewing! Just to reiterate, this is going to be a rewrite from the incredibly busy minds of **Steampunk . Chuckster** and **david . carner**... which means some bits will be word for word, and we're changing/adding/manipulating whatever we feel is necessary to tell the story we want to tell. Be patient with us...or don't, that's fine, too. But we appreciate your reviews a whole lot! Enjoy chapter 2!

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK, we don't own the CHUCK characters, and we're making no money off of this, but maybe send help because we're having way too much fun and this is dangerous.

* * *

 _Burbank, California_

"Bartowski!" Chuck dropped his head and sighed. That was Big Mike's 10:13 _Where are my donuts?_ yell. Chuck looked over at Morgan who shrugged and fled. "Bartowski!" Chuck spun, the fake smile already plastered on his face.

"Big Mike, how are you this morning?"

Big Mike walked up to Chuck and gave him his normal glare. "Bartowski, we have a problem."

"A problem, Sir?" Big Mike always had problems and he usually wanted everyone but him to fix it. "It seems I'm having a little issue in the," Big Mike looked around, leaned in, and made a circling motion at his stomach area. "Apparently I need some more fiber." He was now talking in a very quiet voice, but he might as well been screaming as far as Chuck was concerned. He could never unhear these words. "I have something called in over at the Large Mart, and I'm afraid to go myself in case...well...things…"

"I got it," Chuck cut in quickly before Big Mike decided to explain in detail what might happen. "And you'd like me to go?"

Big Mike handed him some money. "Thank you, Son, you're the only one of these idiots I can trust. I'll never forget this, in fact, how about you take off a half hour early tonight, since it's your birthday."

Chuck smiled. "You remembered."

Big Mike gave him a look that said 'don't be stupid'. "Your sister called and reminded me to make sure you got off on time. I don't want to mess with Ellie."

"That makes two of us," he muttered heading towards the door. He crossed the parking lot. He was twenty-six today and his sister was throwing him a birthday party. Twenty-six. He had no college degree, thank you Bryce Larkin, lived with his sister and her boyfriend, serious thank you, Ellie and Awesome, and he made eleven bucks an hour at the Buy More, where souls went to die. As he entered the Large Mart his cell phone rang. He pulled it out, looked at the screen, and grinned.

"Hello, Ellie."

"Hey, Chuck! Happy birthday! How's your birthday going?"

"Uh, birthdayish?" He felt her frown into the phone. He hurried on. "Big Mike has me getting some medicine for him."

"Oh, does he have a spastic colon?"

"Ellie, one of us has a medical degree, and one of us didn't graduate from college."

"Chuuuck," the voice was low, and ominous...well, as ominous as Ellie could get, but he knew the warning when he heard it.

"Sorry, Ellie."

"Hey, I need you to be in a good mood tonight. Do you have any idea how many of my friends I've invited to this party?"

"Ellie, really?" He found the pharmacist, gave her the piece of paper Big Mike had given him, and waited. "These women aren't going to be interested in me."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"HA! You think I'm falling for that, but I know if I answer this truthfully, you'll just yell."

He heard the sigh. She was trying to do something nice, and he was...he was being difficult. But she didn't understand. She didn't understand what it was like to wonder, did your parents leave because of you? Well...she did understand that, but after that, things got better for her. A medical degree, a superhero for a boyfriend, and honestly a good guy. For him, things started to go well, and then it all burst into flames. Bryce sleeping with his girlfriend and getting him kicked out of college had been the icing on a crap cake. He knew it was on him that he hadn't done anything since, but what was the point? Things would get to a perfect point, and then it would explode, or implode. Life was against him, and he thought he had accepted that, but today, today it was wearing on him. He was in line to get Big Mike medicine for his stomach...life couldn't get worse...and then the pharmacist opened the container of Big Mike's medicine right in front of him and Chuck thought he might pass out from the smell.

"Chuck," Ellie began patiently.

"Ellie, I'm sorry," Chuck said, as apologetic as he could. "You are trying to do a nice thing for me, and I'm bitching about the same old thing again. Thank you for the party, and I'm going to get a smile on my face, and enjoy tonight."

He could feel her smile through the phone. "Chuck, that's so good to hear. Thank you. Now make sure you're not late tonight." And with that she ended the call.

He paid the pharmacist, thanked her, and headed back toward the Buy More, determined to enjoy the day. He entered the store, and heard a scream.

"What's that?" Chuck asked Jeff, who he then realized was spraying cheese into Lester's mouth from a can.

"Oh, that? Morgan's locked in the cage with the old computers."

Chuck took off running. He knew Morgan's fear of old computers. Chuck crashed through the doors and saw Anna standing there twirling the key, tapping her foot, looking like some dastardly villain from a 20s silent movie.

"What is going on?" Chuck looked at Morgan who was nearly white as a sheet and could do nothing but whimper. He turned to Anna. "Why aren't you letting him out?"

Anna smirked. "I locked him in there. He was being nice and asked me how my day was."

Chuck swore she was growling. He pleaded with her. "Please, Anna, let him go, please."

She walked over to him and drew up. Chuck was nearly 6 foot 4, and Anna was in the 5 foot 2 range, but he felt like she towered over him. "Give me one good reason."

"It's my birthday," he pleaded. "I need my best friend for my birthday party tonight. And if you come I promise I'll keep him away from you."

"I'll let him out if I don't have to come to your party."

Chuck stuck his hand out. "Deal." She shook it, and released Morgan. Morgan scampered from the room. He was probably heading for the roof and the fresh air. That meant at some point Chuck would have to go get him off the roof.

Anna shook her head and started toward the door. "Chuck, you're the smartest person here, but you're also the dumbest. Anyone else with your brain would have gotten out of here by now. I'm a slacker, that's why I'm here. You're not, why are you? What are you afraid of?"

Chuck didn't have an answer. She left the room and he followed her. He looked around the Buy More. Why was he here? Why hadn't he moved on? It had been five years. Maybe it was time. But what if something happened out there again? He was safer here. Skip walked up to him.

"Uh, Chuck, Big Mike wants to see you in his office."

Chuck nodded, and patted Skip on the arm. "Thanks, Skip," and headed toward Big Mike's office.

"Uh, Chuck, not that office," Skip said. Chuck grimaced, turned and saw Skip pointing toward the men's room.

"BARTOWSKI!" Big Mike yelled. Maybe it was safer out in the real world than in the Buy More.

}o{

"Psst!"

Chuck looked up from the bottle aka instrument he was blowing into in an attempt at playing "Three Blind Mice" and furrowed his brow, glancing around.

"Psst! Chuck! Dude!"

"Morgan?" he asked at a regular volume of voice.

"Up here! On the double!"

He looked up and noticed his bearded friend looking down into the courtyard from the upstairs window. "What are you doin' up there? At least come down and be bored out here with me. What kind of a friend are you?"

"Shh! Dude, shut up...Whispers! You gotta whisper! Ellie has the hearing of a bat!"

"I'm telling her you said that."

"Please don't. Just-Just come up here. I have an idea."

"Video games?"

"No! Just...come-oh crap!" He pulled back in and the window shut with a click as Chuck wrinkled his face in confusion and turned to see his sister approaching.

"Hey!" she said, a tentative look on her face. "What, uh, what are you doing all the way over here? The party is more in, uh, that area. With all the people."

"Oh! God, yeah. I see that. I must've wandered off."

Ellie gave him a flat look. "What are you even accomplishing standing over here with this bottle of beer, not bothering to even try to converse with these people I brought here for you?"

"I can play 'Three Blind Mice' with my bottle. Watch." He started it and she snatched the beer from him, pointing. "Fiiiiine," he groaned. "I'm a little out of my depth."

"You _think_ you are, but you're not. It's not like everyone here is talking about Plato's whatever essays or something. Tracy just told a story about her dog rolling in another dog's poo at the park."

Chuck laughed. "That's awesome."

"See?"

"Okay, I'll be over in a second. I, um, I got a phone call from someone who might be coming tonight and I'm just gonna call back and see what's up...Go have fun." He took his phone out and wiggled it.

She smiled and handed him his beer again, squeezing his shoulder and walking back towards the party. He followed after her only so far as to get to the door and then he ducked inside and rushed upstairs, leaving his beer on the counter along the way.

As he finally pushed into the room, he found Morgan already pulling gloves on. "Wait, what are you even freaking doing?" he asked.

"Tell me somethin', buddy. And be truthful. Do you want to be here?"

"It's—It's my birthday."

Morgan sighed, his eyes shutting in pity, which Chuck didn't particularly appreciate. Then he came up to him and put his hands on his shoulders. "I told a joke about the _Legend of Legaia_ and I got blank stares. Blank stares, man!"

"I mean, it's not one of the really big ones. I kinda get where—"

"No! Chuck, that's not my point. We don't belong here. With these people."

Morgan's reasoning was silly, he knew. But deep down, Chuck also knew that there was more to what Morgan said, even though his best friend didn't realize it. This wasn't the first party he'd ended up standing off to the side for in the last five years. In fact, that was most parties, even the holiday parties at the Buy More, where people weren't so...medical professional-ish.

It was perhaps the soul-deep fear that he'd have to explain his life choices. _So what do you do?_ He'd say he worked at the Buy More. Then there'd be an awkward pause. _Your sister mentioned Stanford…?_ Yep, and he'd been kicked out before he could finish his degree, he'd tell them. Followed by an inward, _Thanks for the reminder, and also while you're at it, give me one of those uncomfortable look-away gestures before excusing yourself. Great._

For all intents and purposes, he could survive what was going on in that courtyard. He could banter with Captain Awesome and his fellow doctor friends. He could talk about dogs and their funny antics. He could smile and engage and put on a show, if only to make Ellie happy. But the fact of the matter was he didn't fit out there. Where _did_ he fit? He didn't know. He'd once thought he had this higher calling, to be the next Bill Gates—not because of the money, that wasn't so important, but the huge strides his work would make in the tech world. He could make people's lives easier, put tech in people's hands who hadn't had it before, level the playing field. And now instead, he sat in a literal cage in the back warehouse of a Buy More in Burbank, California and fixed people's broken computers. He'd missed out on his chance and that was that. Maybe fate just didn't want him to have a calling after all. He was meant for this bullshit. He should accept it and just be happy with what he had, which was a lot more than a lot of people.

Sure, there were pretty women outside. Sure, he could talk to them just fine. He might even be charming. But what did any of that matter, and why should he even try, when he had already found something he'd thought was perfect, only to have it thrown back in his face, his heart decimated, pulverized, and his face rubbed in it over and over…?

Why the hell would he want that again? He didn't care _who_ she was.

He didn't want that. And as grateful as he was to Ellie, he didn't want women shoved in front of him. She meant well, but she didn't get it. And how many times had he thought that about his sister over the last five years? Just today, even?

And so...

"What's the plan?" he asked finally.

"Yes! Yesyes! Okay...here, put your jacket on, 'cause it's a little chilly out there and I've only got my bike, so…" Morgan thrusted his jacket at him and he rolled his eyes and put it on, zipping it up slowly.

"Is that...tape? Did you tape your fingers?"

"Yes. This is serious."

"What's the flashlight for?"

"Hey, you got any AA batteries in here? I forgot to get some batteries." Chuck gave him a flat look. He hadn't forgotten, the guy was just cheap. "Ah! Nevermind. Found them in this drawer…" He slid them inside and screwed the top back on. "Perfect. We're blowin' this joint."

"Are these...bedsheets?" Chuck asked, lifting the material in his hands.

"Yes. Gimme, I got this." He began tying it securely.

"Morgan, this is a bad idea."

"Well, we can't stay here, Chuck!" he whispered.

Within minutes, they were sitting side by side under the window which Morgan had pushed open, the lights off in the room just to be safe, but they could just see each other in the moonlight coming in.

"I'm uncomfortable with the plan," Chuck murmured. Ellie would be so pissed if she couldn't find him anywhere later. He picked up the flashlight and started playing with it, turning it on and off, on and off.

"Plan? What plan?" Morgan whispered. "This is survival!" he growled in his best Batman impersonation. God, this was ridiculous.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. _Crap! Crap crap!_

"That's her! We've been compromised!" Morgan hissed, climbing up from where he sat. As he leapt up onto the windowsill, he said in full seriousness, "I'm a GHOST!"

"Morgan. Buddy, you can't leave me here like this," he muttered in fear. "You can't do this to me, man—"

The door opened and Ellie turned the lights on, the flattest look he'd ever seen her give anyone plastered on her face. "Chuck...what are you doing?"

There was no point in lying or beating around the bush. "Uhhhh… escaping."

"From your own birthday party…" she droned, hand on her hip. He could only give a half-assed shrug.

"Hey, Ellie!" Morgan rasped, still holding onto the makeshift rope and dangling out of the window. Part of him wondered if he should reach back and help the guy, but then he thought to himself, _Naaah._

"You know, sis, the thing is: Morgan and I don't really feel like we're fitting in...at my birthday party…'cause we don't know anybody…'cause they're all your friends…" He winced. "And they all happen to be doctors."

"Doctors who don't really get our jokes," Morgan chimed in.

"Well, _your_ jokes," he corrected over his shoulder, aware he was being kind of a brat. He was just tired. He was tired and he didn't want to be here. Or anywhere. He just wanted to...not be. He wanted a night to escape _being_.

"Okay," Morgan assented. " _My_ jokes."

"Chuck," Ellie said through her teeth. Oh, he was in trouble. "I have invited real, live women…FOR YOU...So, please! Let's go. Morgan, you stay here," she seemed to add as an afterthought, leaving and shutting the door behind her.

Chuck climbed up and reached out towards Morgan. "Need a hand buddy?"

"No, I'm all right." He climbed back into the room easily, already taking his gloves off, a glum look on his face.

They went down to join the others and Chuck did his best, just as he promised himself he would. And just as he thought would happen, his time at Stanford had come up, his job, since he was still in his Nerd Herd uniform...one woman had even asked if it was a costume. That had felt great.

Then again, it was his own fault, wasn't it? For not changing into normal clothes for his birthday party. He just didn't...feel like it.

Ellie's pep-talk, followed by one from Captain Awesome, had done nothing to make the situation better. And yet, he soldiered on.

"You went to Stanford?" one of Ellie's friends asked in excitement. "What was your major?"

"Engineering."

"Oh my God! I knew this great guy there who was an engineer...I think he ran track and was a gymnast... His name was…" She screwed up her face as she thought.

His stomach churned halfway through her description. "Bryce Larkin," he murmured, feeling the good show he'd been putting on for a few minutes there crashing down around him. "He was my roommate."

Chuck wanted out. He needed to get out. He was crumbling. He could feel it. The wound was five years old, but it still felt so fresh.

"Yes! What is he doing now?" she asked, with the exact amount of interest he'd expect. That was what happened with women around Bryce Larkin. Not that he'd been angling for this woman, or any of these women, in any way, shape, or form, but if he had, Bryce would've just ruined that for him, too.

"I think he's an accountant," he said. Because if he couldn't beat 'em, he'd just have to join 'em.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?" Oh. That was unexpected.

"I did. Uh, a while back." He wasn't even looking at the woman anymore, his mind going back to a time when he felt like things were clicking. His life was on this incredible path to greatness and happiness. He had friends, a girlfriend, some purpose, professors who'd challenged him… but also, a girlfriend who'd been _the ideal_. "Back at Stanford." She said something about that but he wasn't listening, already halfway in the rabbit hole. "We met freshman year. Her name was Jill. I saw her drop her bag and I kinda ran over there to help her pick it up, and she didn't see me, and we did that whole, uh, cartoon thing where we bumped heads. And it was like this immediate...thing, you know? Like what you see in the movies. Where you look up and it's like, _ahhhh_ , you know? And everything just like, sort of, fell into place for me. Like this gaping hole was filled by this great girl who was smart and, you know, fit in with me and my buddies. We had this whole gang after that, me and Bryce, and Jill. And then, you know, I guess...I dunno," he muttered quietly, "I wasn't enough or somethin'. Probably that. Most likely that. Especially stacked next to Bryce, right? And then the whole thing with the tests happened, and uh, I found out they were a thing. Jill and Bryce, I mean. Which just made sense. And that hole she'd filled, she left it, you know? But it felt, like, worse. Like the hole was even bigger and more gaping like...the Great Pit of Carkoon, when she left it. So anyway, there I was...Jill and Bryce...me on a train home…Guess she thought he was more exciting."

When he looked up, all he saw was the courtyard fountain. The woman he'd been talking to, whatever her name had been (did he even get her name?), was gone. She'd probably run away.

"Checks out," he mumbled to himself. And he went back to his corner for the rest of the party, blowing tunes into his half empty beer bottle. "Smoke on the Water" was a good one. He'd try that one.

By the time the courtyard had cleared out late into the night, Chuck found himself sitting alone on the fountain, still dwelling on everything that could've been but wasn't. Bryce Larkin, his roommate and once best friend, getting him kicked out of Stanford, derailing his entire future because he wanted his girlfriend for himself. It wouldn't even make a good subplot in a crappy dramatic made-for-TV movie. But it had happened.

And now five years later, it was still jammed in his ribcage, making it hard to breathe and spread his wings...or something.

It was hard to forget, hard to heal, because it wasn't just about one woman. It was about the avalanche of utter shit that had torn up his insides when he'd thought maybe he was getting to a place where he was...okay. Like almost getting to the top of a cliff after years of climbing, and when you reach the top, about to pull yourself up and over, your roommate and best friend puts his boot against your forehead and gives a hearty push.

He was at the bottom of the cliff. And frankly, the more years that passed, the more time he spent in an $11 per hour job that was easy enough if you ignored the clinically disturbed people who also worked there, the less he wanted to start that climb again. It had been five years. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he should just...never try. That sounded like an okay solution to all of this. He'd had his legs cut out from under him and he was just going to lie here. And accept it.

Chuck unwrapped his fingers, stretching them out, dropping the tape at his feet and pushing a hand through his hair. Ellie slowly strolled over to stand next to him, offering him a beer. He smiled up at her and took it.

"Hey. Thanks for my party." She smiled back, but he could see a bit of disappointment in her face. And on top of everything else he failed at, he'd just let his sister down on his birthday, too. Great work. "Your seven-layer dip? Tasted like eight." He reached up to clink his bottle against hers, doing his best to assuage her disappointment and maybe make her laugh.

She didn't. Instead she smirked a little and sat next to him on the fountain, scooting close so that their sides were pressed together, providing a bit of emotional warmth like she always did. "Chuck, can I tell you something?"

Ohhh no. Oh boy, that tone. He wished he could say no without making her annoyed with him. He tried to keep up the jokester act. "It really was eight layers," he said, looking at her seriously.

Her face didn't change even a bit as she tilted her head. "Even though a woman may ask about an old girlfriend, we really don't want to hear about it." He shook his head and she rushed on, probably sensing he was shutting her off...because he was. "It's hard to listen to. Depressing. And more than anything, especially if it's someone you've just met, like with Rachel at the party tonight—"

"Was that her name? I didn't get that far."

"Chuck, it's kinda uncomfortable and awkward. What happened to you at Stanford was terrible. To this day, I'd probably kill the both of them, and frankly, set fire to the entire school, for what they did to you. To your life. But...if you're just meeting somebody...It was five years ago, okay?" she asked, tilting her beer back and forth. "At some point, you're going to need to move on from Jill. You know? And—"

"Do we have to do this every time? I mean, do you really have to lecture me after every party when I'm not peppy enough, when I don't come out of it with one of your friend's phone numbers?"

She narrowed her eyes a little, thankfully not seeming hurt. Just frustrated. He couldn't blame her. "I'm trying to help."

"Yes, El. I realize that. And you know I love you and appreciate you, for-for everything. But do we really have to have this conversation _again_?" He could hear the shortness in his voice, could feel the anger starting to rise, the feeling that this, and everything really, was unfair. He knew self-pity didn't suit him, but he needed a break from always being the better side of himself, if only for just one freaking night.

"We've rehearsed it enough…" she said, bumping his shoulder with hers a little, obviously trying to make him see she wasn't trying to upset him, or make him feel bad about himself. She was speaking the truth and he knew it, but it was so easy to say, so much harder to actually do it. That happiness and contentment, that feeling of being _something_ instead of nothing, going somewhere instead of nowhere, had been right there for him. And then it was gone. It was hard to move on from that.

"Fine, I'll...get over Jill tomorrow," he mumbled sarcastically, climbing to his feet and just walking away. He didn't need another pep-talk. He didn't need to talk about this again. He just wanted to lose himself in picking up these stupid red cups and stuffing them in the stupider white plastic trash bags. He ignored the sight of her still staring after him from her spot on the fountain, and he continued to ignore pretty much everything except for the comforting monotonous job of cleaning up the courtyard.

An hour later, he stared at the TV screen while Morgan played one of his video games. He really didn't know why the bearded one was still here. But sometimes he had a sixth sense of when Chuck needed… Well, just needed. He'd find Morgan there even when he didn't know he needed somebody else to just be around. Since they were kids, Morgan had just always been there.

But right now, he sort of just needed to be alone. Maybe Morgan's sixth sense didn't work when he was focused on video games. "Cheer up, Chuck! You talked to _some_ women. You know? That's a start."

God, he really didn't need this. It wasn't a start. If anything, he'd taken steps backwards. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen some more, distantly hearing a quiet beep in the room.

"Wow. Blast from the past…"

Chuck frowned and looked at Morgan. "What?"

"The guy who got you kicked outta Stanford, stole your girl? Same one you didn't stop blabbing about tonight to the girls…?" _Thanks so much, buddy…_ "He just sent you something. Just came up on your desktop."

As Morgan gestured to the computer with a flick of his head, Chuck's eyes widened and he clambered up from the bed. "What?!"

"Remember that guy? 'Cause he remembered your birthday." Chuck ignored Morgan and moved to the computer, already leaning over before he got to it. "All right, well, uh...let's see what we got here," his friend continued, coming to sidle up next to him.

Chuck opened the file and watched as a screen he remembered like it was yesterday popped up. **_The terrible troll raises his sword_**

"What is it?" Morgan asked.

"You remember that old text-based video game Zork? Bryce and I programmed our own version of it using an old TRS-80…" he drawled, feeling pretty proud of himself, a little impressed. Those were the days.

"You guys were _really_ cool."

Chuck ignored the bitter sarcasm and focused on the game, feeling that seemingly ancient sensation of anticipation and excitement at seeing his creation again, getting to solve the puzzle again. "If I could only remember what was in my hero's satchel…" He could feel Morgan's question without him even saying anything. "Those are the weapons I'd use to kill the terrible troll."

He saw Morgan giving him an unimpressed look in his peripheral and kept ignoring him. "Riiiiight," the beard drawled. "You know what? You're still really cool."

"And you're goin' home," he said, because Morgan had finally given him the perfect reason to kick him out.

"Is it that time?" he asked, obviously hoping it wasn't that time.

"It's that time."

"Right." He straightened up and walked out of the bedroom.

"Pedal safe!" Chuck called after him, and he turned back to the game as he heard Morgan's "Thank you" carry down the hallway.

He wracked his brain. What had they written for this part? Something about…

He grinned a bit to himself and typed the command. "Attack troll with nasty knife," he said to himself, proud that he'd even remembered that after seven years. He tapped enter with a flourish and stared at the screen.

An image of a pair of binoculars popped up on the screen then, and the images began flashing, so quickly he could only pick out what they were for a millisecond, and then there was a fog settling over him, his awareness drifting away, his feet planted to the floor. And when it ended, he had no idea what had happened except that he was dizzy, his brain overwhelmed, his vision covered in spots, and then there was pain in his head as he fell, and finally...nothing at all.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please leave us a review! Thanks, all!

-SC and DC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** DC here. We've had a lot of questions so let me try and answer some of them here. 1. Why not a joint account? Well, SC has done that and you lose a lot of followers that way. Plus she invited me along for this crazy ride and she has been here since the beginning, so it made the most sense to use SC's account. 2. Are we switching chapters? Hell we jump in the middle of sentences sometimes. And we discuss EVERYTHING. I mean EVERYTHING. 3. Are we sticking to canon? Wellllll kinda...but we have the caveat of adding scenes, eps, taking eps out, rearranging (Whaaaaaa?) Look, here's the best I can tell you. We have a plan...we also are known to go rogue and do whatever hits our fancy, whenever. We have already made subtle changes but they will affect the long run. This is how we look at it: we have a template, but we can freestyle with the best of them. 4. Will there be angst? Shall we side-eye them, SC? This will not be MY (DC) normal, off they go, everything is okay, and they'll live happily ever after. This is us doing a TV show. The way WE would. There will be drama, conflict, jealousy, and even misunderstandings, and possibly breakups. BUT I don't think anyone will lose their mind with our ideas. All that being said….trust us. Have we ever given you anything but Charah? Either of us? Seriously, THANK YOU for reading. THANK YOU SC for having me along. This is FUN. More fun than should be allowed by law, and I'm just as much along for the ride as you guys.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK, we don't own the CHUCK characters, and we're making no money off of this, but maybe send help because we're having way too much fun and this is dangerous.

* * *

To say it had been a weird morning was an understatement. Chuck had woken up on the ground, Morgan looking down at him, weird visions swimming around Morgan's head. He wondered if Morgan had spiked the drinks last night...Spoiler alert, he had. Of course he had. Chuck's head had felt...full. It wasn't uncomfortable it was just….well...full. But that wasn't where the weirdness stopped. He was in the shower when a traffic report on the radio made images flash through his head. He hadn't felt something like that in a long time, not since he was a young boy, and that was disconcerting as well. He quickly realized what the images meant, which was weird. Really weird. He felt so weird he had Morgan drive. Chuck made sure to warn him to skip the 5 because the police were in phased deployment….that's what the pictures he had seen while listening to the radio had told him, and obviously that was something...what, he wasn't sure, but something.

He had gathered all the nerds (Anna, Jeff and Lester) to warn them of the day's incoming disaster...Because it was the Buy More, and disasters were a daily thing. Today's specialty: the Irene Demova virus. He showed the herders the virus, after warning Anna not to look, not that she listened, because, well, she was Anna. Lonely guy call volume would be high on this one, and the smirk on her face made him realize that might be sexist. He was ending the meeting when he heard one of the TVs that Morgan was showing to a customer. Chuck turned toward it, seeing a newscast.

"... to arrive in Los Angeles later today to deliver a speech before the Pacific Security League tomorrow evening…" Chuck began to concentrate on the man walking in the picture. He felt something in his head similar to earlier this morning. "... the general has drawn fire for his criticism. General Stanfield, the former allied commander of nato…" The flashes in his head began again. They were nonsense really, but at the same time they weren't. The random pictures meant….something...information that pooled into his brain and allowed Chuck to come to a conclusion.

"He's already here. He landed last night," he blurted out.

Anna leaned in toward him. "Who's already here, Chuckles?"

Chuck was confused. He knew he had just said "he landed last night," but Chuck wasn't sure what it all meant. "I don't know," he answered. Anyone else, it would have concerned. The nerd herd gang...it didn't even phase them.

}o{

After embassies, mansions, dark hotel rooms in the rain, and the interior of multiple planes, there was something strangely...comforting...about walking across a packed parking lot in the middle of the day in Southern California. And towards such a ridiculously large, monstrosity of a building with BUY MORE printed in ugly green and yellow letters.

It was so normal, walking into a corporate electronics store like this, as though she was merely looking for a new television. And part of her wondered if there were other paths she could've taken in her life that would've made that silly little image the truth. Going into a Buy More to buy a new TV.

That was never going to happen. And frankly, she thought she'd never really want that life for herself. Not now. She wouldn't even know how to handle something like that, unless it was part of a cover.

Like now, she thought to herself, stepping through the automatic doors and stopping just inside. She saw a man in a green polo in the corner of the store, struggling under the weight of half of a fifty-inch TV, his coworker walking too fast for him. As she glanced in the other direction, a mother and her son were buying some electronic book reader thing for kids at the cash registers. And then she finally looked right down the middle aisle.

She recognized him from his picture immediately, standing there under the massive Nerd Herd sign, behind the round desk, a phone smashed between his ear and his shoulder.

Agent Walker smirked. God, this was going to be so easy. Such a quick and easy mission. By tomorrow or the next day, it'd be over. And she could focus again on what was really important. Whether or not she'd be back to the CIA after that "vacation".

Pushing that out of her head so that she could actually focus on the assignment at hand, she walked towards the desk, not taking her eyes off of her mark for even a moment. It took a few seconds for her to actually arrive at the desk, and in that time she picked out a few things: His hair was messier than it had been in his dossier photo. He was lankier than she'd imagined him, in spite of his six foot four height printed in the file. He had a softness in the way he held himself, and she could even see a vulnerability and lack of confidence in the very slight slump to his shoulders. She'd feel worse for him if she wasn't so eager to exploit that to learn whatever she could, as fast as she could, and rush back out of this city like she'd never been here in the first place.

But then his friend must have caught sight of her, even as Charles himself was focused on the file he held in his hands, or maybe whatever hold music was playing over the phone. The short man with the bad hair and the beard said something about a Vicki Vale person, which was...strange. But she was unfazed as she closed the rest of the distance and stopped right in front of her mark.

"Vicki Vaaaale, vuh-vick vuh-Vicki Vaaale! Vickety-vickety Vicki Vaaale vuh-vick-" He moved the files in his hands and opened the one that had been on the bottom, smirking at his own antics, and then he glanced up and looked right into her eyes, before lowering his gaze to the contents of the file again. He did a cartoonish double-take and the phone fell from where he'd trapped it against his ear, the file plopping down on the desk, and he put his hands on his hips in an inherent and seemingly unconscious attempt to play it cool.

It was almost...funny.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice, the smile on her face a lot more natural than she'd planned for it to be.

"No. Not at...all." He glanced to his friend, his chest puffed out a little. And she couldn't help noticing that he wasn't taking his eyes away from hers. Not even for a moment. Not even to let them wander down the rest of her. It was interesting, to say the least. "That is...that's from Batman," he rushed out, playing with his tie a little as he glanced at his coworker. His coworker who seemed like he was looking at the rest of her.

"Oh, right. 'Cause...that makes it better," she said, wondering why in the hell he felt the need to even tell her that.

He let out a nervous laugh, but before she could take in a bit more of him, his coworker cut in, like most men usually did when their friends were...struggling, to put it nicely.

Then again, was he struggling? Really? She couldn't really tell, and maybe she was being a bit hard on him. And maybe she shouldn't be thinking like that because a rogue agent had sent this man some incredibly sensitive government intel he absolutely shouldn't have-especially considering what she'd witnessed in this place where he worked so far.

"Hi. Hey. I'm Morgan." Then he gestured with a flick of his head to her mark. "This is Chuck."

She decided to play a game, test him out a bit. And she found herself wanting to put a bit of a flirty edge to her voice as she teased them. "Wow, I didn't think people still named their kids Chuck...or, uh, Morgan, for that matter," she added as an afterthought. She didn't want Chuck to know she was gunning for him in particular, after all.

But he looked amused, seeming to have settled into himself after the shock of her appearing at his desk out of the blue. She was almost impressed by how easily he'd done it. And by how quickly he threw her teasing back at her.

"My parents are sadists. And carnival freaks found him in a dumpster…"

"But they raised me as one of their own." She switched her gaze over to Morgan and he seemed to almost cave in on himself in embarrassment, finishing it with a weak, "So…"

"How can I help you...?" Chuck interrupted.

"Sarah."

"Sarah?" he finished. She could tell he had a certain amount of social awareness, moving things along like this, and she thought maybe he was at least somewhat professional, though his nametag said he was the Nerd Herd supervisor, so maybe he had to be the responsible one. His friend didn't quite seem the type.

"I'm here about this," she said, putting a cellphone she'd bought in a Radioshack down the road on her way here down on the desk between them. An analyst had told her which phone to buy-the Intellicell had some problem she hadn't paid much attention to when she was told about it. All that mattered was that it was a legitimate issue, and if this Chuck Bartowski guy was good enough to be the supervisor of this desk, he would be able to tell if she brought a cell to him with a fake issue.

She'd taken the back off, along with the battery, and she set those down, too.

"Intellicell! Yeah! Absolutely," he said, and she heard a sudden bout of confidence in his voice. And he picked it up, slipping the battery back in its place as though he'd done it tens of thousands of times before. "Uh, this model has a little screw that pops loose…"

He produced a small screwdriver and began to fix the phone, explaining as he went. And when he stuck the back of her phone between his lips as he worked, such a completely unnecessary thing for him to do, it was… Well, it made her smile, and she didn't know why. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded when he talked around the back of her phone. Or maybe it was the fact that she'd been standing here for about two minutes and had even semi-flirted and teased him, and he had yet to hit on her, or even look at her in the wrong way. And she was almost surprised by that. Not because she expected a constant barrage of men hitting on her all the time, but because he fit the bill of a guy who...might.

Then again, there had been that slump to his shoulders she'd spotted right in the beginning. Was it a lack of self-esteem? Or was he just...a decent guy?

Either way, as he grabbed the piece of her phone out of his mouth and popped it right back into place with a quick, almost sweet, "Good as new. No problem," she found this all very...unexpected. Not that she'd lost control of this situation. Not by a long shot. But he was...different than she'd thought he'd be. Already.

"Wow!" she exclaimed with an impressed look at Morgan first, then back up at him. "You geeks are good."

"Nerds!" he said after a bit of a loaded pause. His friend backed him up as he tried to correct her politely, explain to why nerd was the preferential term, both men rambling a bit as she pressed her lips together and smiled at Chuck in amusement.

She wasn't ready to make any judgment on whether or not he was actively helping Bryce, because there was an awareness and intelligence in his eyes that no one else in this building had. And she wasn't sure if it was just self-awareness, or if he was perhaps sharing a joke with her as their eyes met.

"E-Excuse me! Excuse me!" A man ran to the desk, out of breath, holding the hand of a young girl dressed as a ballerina, stress all over his face and confused concern on hers. "I-I don't know what I did wrong," he breathed as he thrust a digital video camera out towards the Nerd Herd supervisor. She shifted to the side a bit to watch. "I shot the entire recital and now it won't play back."

Chuck blinked, probably at the suddenness of the man's arrival, or the desperate panic in him. And then he glanced down at the daughter. "O...kay. Okay." His smile was inherently warm and reassuring towards her. "We'll just take a look-" He opened it up and immediately furrowed his brow with, "You don't have a tape...in here."

"But...it's digital," the dad said quietly.

"Ohhhhh, boy," Morgan said derisively, and yet there was no judgment or rudeness from Chuck, she noticed. His tone didn't change; he was still just perplexed, and maybe he was wincing a little for this poor man.

"Right. Yes. But you still need digital tape."

The anguish that came over the dad's face was palpable, but worse than that was the way the little ballerina dropped her gaze and frowned. "Ohh. Ohhh no. Her mom is gonna kill me. I mean, my wife was-Oh no. The whole thing…"

Chuck looked down at the ballerina again, at her disappointment, then back up at the dad...And then he turned and looked right at her. She saw so much in his face in that moment, but she didn't know what it was until he snapped out a determined, "Morgan...I need the wall."

Morgan dashed off and Chuck turned to look at her again. "I'm so sorry," he said, genuine regret on his face. That had been what was in his face. He was deciding: should he stay and continue talking to this woman who was pretty and flirting with him, or help this clueless father and his small ballerina? He'd made his choice as he told the dad and little girl to follow him.

And Agent Walker was almost gobsmacked as she watched him scurry after his friend towards the wall of televisions in the back of the store. Not just because of the choice he made, but how quick he was at problem solving. He'd just left her here at the desk, too, and instead of being offended, she was almost… Well, something was stirring in her chest. Something she didn't recognize, and she decided not to think too hard on it, instead moving a bit closer to watch Chuck orchestrate everything with a few other Nerd Herders and Morgan as the dad and daughter stood off to the side in confusion.

He asked the dad if he knew what song she'd danced to, and when he answered, Chuck snapped his fingers and pointed towards the CDs section of the store. A Buy More salesperson sprinted past her to go find it as Chuck and another employee set up the tripod, put digital tape in the camera, and angled it at the wall of TVs. They connected wires, cleared the space to make something of a stage, and Chuck slid the CD into a nearby stereo system.

Sarah snuck in a bit closer once Chuck invited the ballerina to her stage, a flourish in the way he moved, a grin on his face. "It's show time." Then he stood to his full height, turning towards the little audience of shoppers who had gathered. "Quiet in the audience, please," he chirped in an official but teasing tone, and he clapped twice, then moved out of the way of the camera.

It was quiet, but the ballerina looked uneasy suddenly, her eyes darting to and fro, and Sarah recognized stage fright in the queasy look on her poor face. Her dad just stood off to the side, ready for the Buy More employees, and Chuck in particular, to save his ass, ready to get the show on the road so he'd have at least something to show his wife, so that he didn't end up in the dog house.

But then Chuck hurried to her side and immediately knelt down to her height, a warm smile on his face. "Ready?" She shifted even closer to hear as the girl directed the queasy look at him. "What's wrong?"

Oh, no. The tone he'd used immediately made something churn in her stomach, something warm and...oh, no.

"I'm usually in the back row," she said with a pained look on her face.

"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused, concern in his face. It wasn't an act. She could tell none of this was an act. He was just...like this. And...oh, no.

"I'm too tall," the ballerina explained. "I block the other ballerinas."

Sarah leaned to the side a bit to see and hear better as he lowered his voice. "Can I tell ya a secret? But you can't tell the other girls." She nodded, already looking like she was feeling a bit better just by having someone at her level, speaking to her kindly. "Real ballerinas are tall."

The way she smiled like that had just changed everything, filled her with the confidence... She saw right in front of her eyes, as Chuck put his hand on her back and grinned at her, one tall person sharing a moment with another, as this ballerina accepted her height that probably made her stick out like a sore thumb on stage, or even on the playground at school. She even looked a bit excited and proud.

As someone who'd spent her youth almost a head taller than even the boys, sitting by herself on one of the swings until someone kicked her off, and even in middle school and high school, when she'd hit an extra growth spurt before most of her male classmates had...Agent Walker felt something inside of her open up. That was the only way she could describe it. And it was terrifying. It was bad. She felt exposed.

But she couldn't go anywhere. She had to stay here and see the culmination of the Buy More employees' work to help this man and his daughter.

The television screens behind her filled with her image as she got into starting position and Chuck pointed over at his coworker near the CD player. Then he glanced at his other coworker behind the camera and she made the okay sign with her fingers.

As the music started, the ballerina put on quite a show for everyone who'd gathered to watch, confidence in the way she moved, a smile breaking out on her face. Sarah thought maybe Chuck had glanced back at her in her peripheral, and she swept her gaze over to meet his, tilting her head, her smile widening, before she went back to watching the ballerina. And it wasn't until she felt him look away that she looked back.

He was giving the dad a reassuring look as a coworker pat the guy on the back. And she found it interesting, strange, that these genuinely weird individuals were doing this, coming together to help a little girl and her dad.

But then the performance was over and everyone clapped enthusiastically. As the dad moved to make sure it had all been recorded, Sarah saw the ballerina look to Chuck for approval and he clapped even harder for her, his entire face lit by a grin that wrinkled his nose and the corners of his eyes.

Sarah moved back to the desk slowly, watching as everyone started clearing up the place, moving things back to where they were supposed to be. And then she spotted Chuck turning to glance at her, seeing she was still there and smiling a little, making his way back towards the desk.

She didn't have to try hard to smile back at him, leaning her elbow on the desk and waiting.

And then a coworker who hadn't been a part of the effort, she noticed, swept in front of him, stopping him.

It was the perfect out. She needed to get out of here, away from this situation. She shook herself a bit and pulled one of the Nerd Herd cards from the holder, writing the number of her burn phone down, leaving it on the desk, and hurrying away.

After what she'd just seen, and how Chuck's actions and behavior, the almost heroic gesture he'd made for people he didn't even know, and most importantly, how intense her own response had been, she couldn't talk with him again. Not until she could regroup.

Because Chuck Bartowski had taken her by surprise. In just five minutes, he'd knocked her back on her ass. And maybe this wouldn't be as easy as she'd thought.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Let us know what you think and leave us a review!

-SC and DC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** We really appreciate the reviews and feedback, folks! Means a lot! Thanks so much! We hope you enjoy this next chapter, too!

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK, we don't own the CHUCK characters, and we're making no money off of this, but maybe send help because we're having way too much fun and this is dangerous.

* * *

Morgan kicked at a small pebble, sending it skittering ahead of Chuck, and as he came upon the same pebble, he kicked it forward with the rubber toe of his Converse, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You still have that number, right?" Morgan finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh my God, yes! Yes, I have it. It's in my pocket, man."

"Okay!" His friend held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just checking. Because I really think you need to reconsider—"

"I'm not reconsidering," Chuck interrupted.

"—calling that crazy hot girl."

"No."

"Chuck, come on! She left her number for you."

He snorted and shook his head. "It's probably one of those numbers you call and it's a robot saying, 'You got plaaayed, sucka!' And I really don't think my self-esteem can take that kind of a hit again."

"What _again_?" Chuck gave Morgan a look at that and his friend rolled his eyes. "Ohhh, man. Come on. Not Jill again. Screw that stupid girl, okay? A woman who is way hotter and already waaay nicer than Jill ever was or will be was flirting with you, my dude. She had sparkles in those mesmerizing blue eyes. You gave her eye-sparkles!"

"I did not! She was just nice."

"She was charmed. Call her."

"Morgster, listen. You're my best friend, so you're biased. I appreciate that about you. Really. But also did you see her? Did you see how incredibly gorgeous she is?" he asked, leading Morgan around the corner and hopping up onto the sidewalk as they made their way towards his apartment complex.

"Yeah! I was standing right there, dude! So what?"

"So what? Look at me!"

"All I see is a stud, dude. A straight-up stud."

Chuck scoffed. "No. A nerd in a stupid Nerd Herd uniform with a pocket protector, hair I didn't have time to even try to brush this morning 'cause I overslept—"

"Maybe so. Maybe you are all those things." Chuck made a face as Morgan scrambled up in front of him and turned to stop him, a hand on his shoulder. "But you have a heart of gold."

"Oh my Godddd," Chuck groaned, laughing and shaking his head as he pushed past his best friend to keep walking.

"No! Chuck, I'm serious! That whole production you staged for her today, with that cute ballerina and her technologically clueless dad! That was A plus in Charm School, man! Hook, line, and sinker…" He mimed fishing gestures.

"What _production_? I didn't do it for her. I thought she'd left already because I just, like, _ugh,_ I just left her there. But that guy really needed help and I felt bad for him, ya know?" He shrugged.

"That's exactly what I mean! And she knew that! She saw it! She's probably thinkin' about ya right now, wondering why you aren't calling." He smacked Chuck in the shoulder. "I know you don't think much of yourself, man. But I mean it when I say you're a stud."

"Stop calling me a stud. It's making me uncomfortable."

"Fine! Fine…"

Chuck used the moment of silence to ponder Morgan's insistence that he call the woman from the store. Sarah. But it was ridiculous. He imagined her leaving her number because of her phone. It was most likely that. Maybe she had another question about her phone. And he said that out loud to Morgan as they neared his complex.

"Okay, so she needs help with her phone. Why don't you call her?" was Morgan's immediate response.

Chuck groaned. That blew up in his face.

He didn't want to call her. He didn't want to call a woman who was obviously so much cooler, so much nicer, so much prettier than the woman who'd absolutely destroyed his heart and his ability to trust _people_ in general—not even just women. He wasn't going to do women the disservice of thinking they would all treat him the way Jill had. But relationships were lost all the time, and he'd been abandoned enough that… Well, trusting anyone outside of his family—Morgan counted as family—was incredibly hard.

What if he called and she _wasn't interested_? After all of this stupid back and forth with Morgan, the little guy actually doing quite a bit to pump him up even if he wasn't admitting it. And what scared him more was that maybe she _was_ interested…

"I just think you should call this girl, man...That's all I'm saying. She is stunning and you are missing out on a huge opportunity."

"Maybe I don't deserve a huge opportunity until I'm not such a wreck. Ever think of that?" he asked as they walked through the gate and into the courtyard. "You seem so concerned with her getting a call, so why don't you just call her?" He went into his pocket and pulled the card out, grabbing Morgan's hand and shoving it into his palm. "There. Have a blast."

"What?! She doesn't give a rat's ass about me! She barely even spared me a glance. You dazzled her, dude. YOU. She doesn't want me to call. She wants you to call. She wants to date you hard, you stu—you lanky so-and-so." Morgan corrected himself when Chuck sent a warning glare.

"Listen, Morgs. I live on Planet Earth. I'm not even in the top fifty percent on Planet Earth. I barely remembered to tie my shoes before I left this morning…"

"You also saved a man from divorce, most likely, and changed a little girl's perspective on herself in the best way." He shrugged. "That puts you in the top ten percent in my book. Take her number back."

"Nnno!"

"Take it back!" The shorter man shoved the number back into Chuck's jacket pocket. "No give-backs!" he yelled then, leaping away and nearly falling into the fountain. He saved himself by hopping up onto the edge of it. Would've served him right if he'd fallen in, though, Chuck thought to himself.

"Morgan, why'd you follow me home?"

"Uh. Did I—Did I follow you home? Nah. You're just...you know, you're goin' through somethin', buddy. I love ya. Wanted to help ya—You said about six and a half hours ago that Ellie asked you if leftover pot roast was okay for dinner and I love Ellie's pot roast," he said, finally coming clean.

"Oh, God…"

As Chuck unlocked the apartment door and pushed inside, he was still making fun of his best friend. He flicked on the lights and Morgan's response died.

There, standing in the middle of his living room, was very definitely a burglar, dressed head to toe in black, the mask pulled down over their head and everything. They held his computer in both hands as they froze and glanced over at him and Morgan.

He thought maybe he might die for a second, seeing his beloved computer in the burglar's hands. "Please...not the computer."

And when they set the computer back down, he felt relief. But then they went into fighting stance and he realized this was maybe worse. He glanced over at Morgan who glanced back at him.

And then he watched as the bearded man grabbed one of Ellie's fancy plates and threw it like a frisbee. The intruder hit that away easily, sending it shattering against the floor. Morgan threw another of Ellie's glass decorations and the same thing happened.

"What the hell?" he heard his friend breathe. "Chuck, dude! I'm outta ideas! Do something! Protect your realm!"

"My re—What?" He turned to give him a look, in spite of the harrowing situation.

"Fine. If you aren't gonna protect us, it's up to me." He grabbed a glass vase from the entry table and ran at the intruder who was already picking up the computer and trying to escape in the other direction.

"Morgan, don't!"

The masked figure spun and put the computer on the shelf behind them, then reached out and caught Morgan by his hair, yanking him in against them and rounding his throat with their arm. "Hhggghhhkkkkk!" Morgan gasped.

"Hey! Pick on someone your own size!" Chuck yelled, watching as Morgan went limp. The intruder seemed almost confused by it but let him slump to the ground. "Did you kill him? Is he dead?"

He grit his teeth and ran at the burglar, but they side-stepped him easily and caught him by the back of his jacket before he could crash into the lamp, tossing him to the side so that he landed safely on the floor.

Before he could get up again, there was a loud cracking sound, and they both turned to watch as the shelf broke right off the wall under the weight of the computer and hit the floor with a sickening smash, breaking into pieces.

"No!" he yelled, reaching out for it. "God, no!"

The intruder left it and ran.

"Hey!" But he couldn't get to his feet fast enough, and anyway, he valued his own life more than anything he might get from chasing them. Morgan was stirring and he needed to make sure his friend, who he now realized had fainted in fear, was okay.

This was a really great birthday week, he decided. The best birthday week. And maybe next year he'd spend it hiding away inside a cave somewhere.

}o{

She'd seen him head into the Large Mart from her car, sunk low in her seat so that he didn't spot her. And now she was just waiting. So it was perfect that her phone buzzed in her purse right then.

She would have to tell Director Graham about last night at some point, right?

Sighing heavily, she went into her purse and grabbed her phone. "Walker. Secure."

"You didn't get the computer."

Of course he'd known before he even called. Because if she had gotten it, she would've told him immediately. And he knew that. "I didn't get it, no. Bartowski came home as I was getting away. It's a long story and it doesn't matter. Unfortunately, the computer ended up smashed, most likely the information on it irretrievable, but I kept _him_ alive, so at least there is that."

Graham was silent for a moment. She continued, feeling like somehow she needed to.

"If the computer is destroyed, at least we know he won't have access to that program, or the sensitive intel that was on it. Our secrets are safe…"

He took a long time to respond, and it made her feel uneasy. About _something_ but she didn't know what. And then she chalked it up to the fact that he was probably frustrated this part of the assignment hadn't gone to plan. If only she'd broken in a few minutes earlier… She couldn't help but kick herself for her bad timing.

"Just keep your eye on him, Agent Walker. Maybe the computer is destroyed and maybe that information won't ever be able to be accessed again. But this means it's more important than ever that we know who this...Bartowski guy is. What he's capable of. It's time to really make contact with him."

She shut her eyes for a moment, silently cursing. This was exactly what she didn't want to have happen. Even if a small part of her liked the idea of talking to him again—or perhaps, more than that, she liked the idea of watching him when he talked to _her_.

When she opened her eyes again, the steely mask was back, the focus was there, and Agent Walker was prepared to do her damn job. What else was there but that? At least for now, this was it. And she needed to focus.

Because there he was, walking out of the Large Mart, looking over his shoulder...almost looking frazzled. Though she wondered if that was just how he always was.

"I have eyes on him right now." She paused, watching him still, and then she looked away, in case he happened to glance across the parking lot and see her. "And like I said, the computer was destroyed. Beyond repair."

"And if he has a back-up? Or if he's hiding something else Bryce sent him that we don't know about?" the director asked. "Bryce was CIA. He was our guy. And he burned us." There was a long pause.

But she was stuck on one word. Before he could say anything else, she found her voice and asked, "Was?"

"Agent Larkin is dead, Ag—Sarah. He was killed while sending that program to this guy." She felt something inside of her start to quiver in the worst way, and she swallowed thickly, not trusting her voice. "They found him trying to escape after he sent it, and they shot him. NSA."

"Was—?" She swallowed her question, hearing the potential for her voice to break while she spoke, so she shook her head instead and decided not to ask after all. Was it quick, she wanted to know? And she felt sick inside, torn. He was a rogue agent. He'd betrayed her, their partnership, his country. But it still hurt. It hurt to think of him...dead. Gone. She had to pull herself together. She'd lost fellow agents before. Colleagues. Innocents. But Bryce had been sort of different, hadn't he? "NSA?" she asked.

"Yes. And now that he's finished Larkin off, Casey's on his way out to Burbank as we speak. So you better make quick work of this before NSA makes me recall you."

Anger flared in her—she wasn't sure if it was vengeance or what, but it was an almost murderous anger. "Because of Casey? He's a burn-out."

"He's a killer," Graham came back, his hard tone pounding it home.

She got the message loud and clear. And none of this felt right. None of it. She scrambled for a way to respond that didn't make it sound like she had any intention of doing anything besides her job, even with knowing now that Bryce had been killed in cold blood.

"I want you to listen to me, Agent Walker. Sarah. What happened with Bryce…" _Please don't. Not right now…_ "It couldn't have been helped. None of us could have stopped this."

"But I can fix it," she said, her voice tight, her chest constricted.

Because she didn't know if she believed what happened couldn't have been helped. If she'd paid more attention, if she hadn't been as focused on the job instead of paying attention to her partner and whatever was going on with him. They were sleeping together. She should have known. She should've seen something, picked up on cues.

She could make this right. Or at least, she didn't like the idea of leaving before she tried. "If there's a back-up, I'll find it," she said. "If he knows more about Bryce, about us, I'll figure out what he knows. Tell the NSA to give me twelve hours. They can hold off with their burn-out assassin 'til then."

Agent Walker hung up on the CIA director and tossed her phone back into her purse angrily. They were really sending someone in to take this guy out, not even knowing if he was actually innocent or not. She wasn't letting it happen, not before knowing for sure if he really was the potential accomplice they thought he might be.

And she'd heard stories of John Casey. The man pulled the trigger first and asked questions later. He was verging on renegade status. But when he got an order, he carried it out. She felt like a hypocrite as she finally watched Chuck Bartowski disappear inside of the Buy More, because she had blood on her hands as well. And she'd shot first, asked later at least once, if not a few times in her own career.

She wasn't letting it happen here, though. She was getting to the bottom of this.

And she maybe only had twelve hours to do it in. Checking her watch, she grabbed her purse and got out of her car, quickly crossing the parking lot and fluffing her hair a bit.

This time, she didn't have to look for him. He was right where she'd expected him to be. And she didn't glance anywhere else as she walked down the aisle towards the Nerd Herd desk.

But something was wrong. His head was down, buried in his arms he'd crossed on top of the desk. And as she approached, she heard him repeating, "I'm losing my mind, I'm losing my mind, I'm losing my mind…"

She just watched him for a moment, then gently reached out to delicately ring the bell that was on the desk next to him.

"Morgannnn? Not now—" His tired, annoyed voice was muffled and he surprised her by laying his hand on top of where hers still rested on the bell. But then his fingers curled around hers, tightening almost as though his body spasmed at the realization that this wasn't his bearded friend's hand he was holding.

He moved his fingers and felt her hand gently, squeezing again, and then he lifted his head, eyes wide. "HI!" he burst out, breathless as he straightened to his full height, stunned. "Hiyeeee." She just smiled at him again, waiting for that kind of cute shocked look of his to settle again like it had yesterday. "Uh! Phone trouble? …again?"

Chuck pulled the screwdriver out of his pocket and wiggled it a little, ready to come to her aid again. Almost as if she hadn't left a card with her phone number written on it yesterday. And why was it suddenly endearing that this guy kept a tiny screwdriver in his pocket?

She shook herself mentally with an "Uuuuhhh…" And then she was right back on track again, Agent Walker focusing on her assignment. She had a mess to fix. "Yeah!" she said, unconsciously tucking a bit of hair away from her face. "Um, I'm not sure I'm able to receive calls, 'cause…" She looked down and then oh so slowly lifted her blue eyes to meet his gaze through her eyelashes. "I never got one from you," she finished, her words slow and dripping with honey.

"Oh ho hooooooo!"

And there was Morgan. But before he could say anything else, Chuck turned and looked at him. She couldn't see the taller man's face, but it must've had murder in it because Morgan practically tripped getting away from the situation.

Chuck turned back to her, looking pained. She thought she'd try to put him out of his misery a little bit.

"I'm sorry I left so quickly yesterday. I had an appointment with a realtor. I just moved here," she explained.

"Welcome!" he squeaked, and it was such a sweet response, made all the sweeter by the fact that he lifted the screwdriver up between them for some reason. He glanced at it like he wasn't all too sure why he was even still holding it, and then he shoved it back into his pocket quickly.

"Thanks…" She was admittedly a bit tripped up by his sincere goofball antics—so sincere, in fact, it almost seemed like he wasn't in control of what he was doing yet. She had really thrown him off today, apparently. More so than yesterday. And she was accidentally enjoying his response to seeing her again. She quickly continued before she lost any semblance of focus. She needed to go in for the kill. So to speak. "And, uh, I don't really know anyone here." She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment. "And I was wondering if you would show me around."

He froze, and then she watched as his eyebrows slowly raised, his mouth falling open. She spared a moment to wonder what had happened to this guy that he was so incredibly surprised by the fact that a woman was talking to him like this, with invitation in her tone. As far as she could tell, the situation with Agent Larkin sending him sensitive government secrets aside, he seemed almost like a diamond in the rough. At least here, in this particular store. And perhaps even elsewhere…? Maybe?

Her mark didn't seem capable of saying anything to that. So she had to prompt him a bit.

"That is...if you're free…?" She used that dripping with honey voice again. She even grabbed the end of her hair and played with it flirtatiously. If he didn't latch onto this, she didn't know what else she was going to have to do…

"Oh, he's free! He's _so_ free! He's got nothin' but time on his hands! He's _very_ available! You guys are gonna have a great time!"

She glanced over Chuck's shoulder to see that Morgan had wandered back at some point to watch this unfold. She felt a bit bad for Chuck now. _Very available. Ouch..._ But at least Morgan was somewhat helping her cause with his intrusive nosiness. Was he always like this, she wondered?

Chuck's slow turn with the simpering smile made her think that, yes, this happened often enough, and Chuck was unfortunately used to it. Morgan sprinted off again muttering something about xerox machines, leaving them alone together.

"Apparently, my schedule's wide open," Chuck said then, turning back to her, attempting to make the best of the embarrassing scene his friend had just potentially made. But there was some humor in his face, a tinge of self-deprecation and awareness again. And she found herself liking him.

She nodded with a beaming smile. "Great." Giving off a breathy laugh, feigning relief, even though she'd known she would end up with a date by the time she walked away from this desk, she took her phone out of her purse and looked up at him expectantly.

"Oh! Oh, yeah. You probably want my number."

"Do you...still have mine?" she asked as he wrote it down on a post it and passed it across the desk towards her.

He winced, and she liked that, too. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "I'm—I should apologize for not—you know, things got—"

"No, no." She giggled and brushed a hand through the air. "Don't worry about it. It's okay. Um...but like I said, I don't...know any places around town."

"Oh, of course! Yeah. I'll-I'll take care of that. You free tonight? I ask, 'cause I get off a bit earlier. I can maybe...swing by your place?" A look came over his face then, a little like a deer in headlights, then he walked that back. "If you want me to. I mean, if you're more comfortable meeting up at the place, we can do that, too."

"I'll text you where I'm staying. How's that?" She gave him an out again.

"Great. Perfect. Yeah. Of course. That's…" A dreamy look came over his face then. "Stellar." He furrowed his brow and shook his head, laughing at himself. "Stellar? Really? I don't know where that...came from."

She giggled again and texted him the address for Maison23. She heard his phone beep in his pocket and he took it out, wiggling it in his hand.

"There it is. I got it."

"Perfect. What, um...what time should I expect you?"

He looked so overwhelmed but there was something else there now, maybe a bit of confidence. A sense of resolve, as though he was deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth… and wasn't it sweet but sad at the same time?

"Seven? That work? And, hmmm, you like Mexican?"

"Love it."

"Great!"

She put her phone away and grinned again, making sure her eyes sparkled a bit, and then she pushed her hair back behind her shoulder. "See you tonight, Chuck."

"Yes. Definitely."

She smirked, gave him one last look over his shoulder to make sure he got the message, and then she turned back to the door, making a beeline for her car again, dropping the act and frowning.

Twelve hours to save this guy's life, most likely. Twelve hours to find out whether he _deserved_ to be saved. And she had this horribly sick feeling in her gut that told her he was entirely innocent in all of this, and that things were potentially going to get worse for him if she didn't fix this mess quick.

}o{

"Morgan, just...let me do the talking, okay?"

"But I need to see her face when you say it."

"Let me do it!"

"Okay okay…."

Chuck burst into the living room, spotting his sister and her boyfriend sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Hey, Chuck," Ellie murmured, keeping her eyes on the screen, that sleepy post-twelve hour shift look on her face.

"Ellie...Captain...Don't freak out. Remain calm." That probably wasn't the best way to start things because Ellie looked away from the TV at him in genuine concern. So he finished it quick. "I have some news…" The couple looked at each other.

Out of nowhere, Morgan's excited voice filled the room. "CHUCK'S GOT A DATE!" He felt the entirety of the other man's weight slam into his side, his limbs wrapping around him like a koala.

"What?!" Ellie asked, suddenly very alert, excitement on her face as she sat up and faced him. "WHO?"

"Way to go, Chuck. That's awesome," Devon said very diplomatically, pointing at him.

This was exactly the response he was expecting. And then he saw a look of almost terror come over his sister's face, which was less expected. "Oh, GOD! What are you gonna wear?!"

He just shrugged. He was too excited, too nervous, too a lot of things, to think that far ahead. He had a date.

But then Ellie bounded up from the couch, and hurried to his side. "Morgan, off. Get off. I have work to do." She smacked at Morgan's shoulder until he untangled himself and hopped back down to his own feet, holding his hands up.

"C'mon, Chuck."

Chuck let Ellie drag him down the hall to his bedroom, going straight for his closet. He leaned against his desk and watched as she stepped inside, combing through his clothes. "What's her name?" she asked.

"Is that...some kind of epic girl telepathy thing? Where you can tell by her name what colors she likes a guy to wear or something? Plaid or stripes?" Morgan asked, having followed them into the room.

"I just want to know her _name_ , Morgan. Why are you here?" Ellie asked from inside the closet.

Chuck just shrugged at his best friend. "Sarah," he answered then. "Her name is Sarah."

"You look good in dark colors, usually. But if you're going to a place that has dark lighting, I'd go for lighter...Where are you taking her?"

"El Torero."

"Oh, that is an excellent choice, brother. Mexican food is always a winner. There aren't many people in the world who dislike Mexican food. Also, margaritas are amazing." She poked her head out of the closet and pointed at him as he chuckled, then ducked back into the closet again as he heard her moving shirts around, sliding hangers over.

"So Sarah...She's nice?" she asked then, stepping out and holding what looked like the clothes he'd most likely be wearing for this date. "Pretty?"

His nerves were a little frayed, hands clammy, so he did what he always did when he felt that way—he deflected with a joke. "Yeah! Actually, Morgan met her online. It was kind of a chat room…" He inwardly smirked at the momentarily look of _Dear God no_ on his sister's face. "I'm totally kidding," he said quickly when she looked like she might kill him.

"Chuck."

"She came into the store and I fixed her cell phone. She's new here, I guess, and she needs someone to show her around." He laughed nervously. "I mean, honestly, I'm bein' honest, she probably doesn't even consider this a date, ya know? She probably just needs someone to—"

"Chuck!"

"Hm?"

"Stop doing that," Ellie said, pointing at him. He shrugged, a bit of a pout on his face. "It's a date. How did it happen?"

"Oh. I can answer that!" Morgan said. "She said she's new here and doesn't really know anybody, and she was wondering if he would show her around...and then she looked up through her eyelashes all coy-like and flirty and said…" He made his voice deep and husky. "If you're free…"

"That is _not_ what she sounds like!" Chuck groused, reaching out to smack the side of his friend's head.

"Yeah, it is! I mean, I have guy voice, obviously! But I'm tellin' ya, she was asking you out on a date. Ellie, she left her phone number for him yesterday and he didn't even call her."

"Someone broke into the apartment last night! I was maybe a little preoccupied, for God's sake!"

Ellie whistled. "Boys! Hey! First of all, Morgan, you aren't needed anymore. You weren't needed in the first place if I'm being honest. Secondly, Chuck, stop tearing yourself down. It's frustrating and hard to watch."

"I'm here for support," Morgan tried.

"Buddy…" Chuck winced.

"Fiiiiiine. But I need text updates while you're on your date, huh?" He reached over and grabbed the candy bar that was most definitely Chuck's candy bar from the desk next to Chuck's hip, and unwrapped it. "See ya, Bartowskis. Beard _out_!"

"Thank God," Ellie called after him loud enough for him to hear. Then she turned back to Chuck. "Between us, you seriously drive me crazy with your reluctance to accept that you're a good catch. My brother is not only handsome, he is also kind and smart."

Chuck groaned. "I knooow, I know. You say it enough. And I get it. But, like, she saw me in the Buy More, ya know? Compared to the other men in that store, I'm basically George Clooney."

"Anybody would be," she said distractedly, holding the shirts she'd picked out up against his body and squinting thoughtfully. "But I highly doubt it's that. Didn't Morgan say she came back for you?"

"That's...incredibly dramatic," he chuckled. "She didn't come back for me."

"She walked into the store and specifically asked you out on a date, Charles Irving. Which means she saw something in you that she liked. I highly doubt you're the first guy she came across in this town. But you _are_ the guy she asked out on a date, aren't you?" She winked.

He sniffed and nodded, looking off to the side and thinking.

"Try these on," she said then, interrupting his thoughts before he could get much farther than thinking about how stunning Sarah's smile was today.

"Honestly, the—"

"I know. I'm a girl. I know what girls like."

"I'll go change."

As he left to head for the shower, he finally had a moment to think about what had happened. Everything felt like such a whirlwind. She'd shown up yesterday, all warm and a bit flirty, though he'd thought at the time that he was just imagining it. And then she'd left him her number. And when he hadn't called her, she'd shown up _the very next day_ to see him again. It was downright crazy.

He didn't even know how to deal with it. It would've been staggering enough if she wasn't so incredibly gorgeous, but she _was_ so incredibly gorgeous and he felt like he was way out of his depth with her. Gorgeous, a little flirty, bold...deliciously bold. As much as it had made him act like an idiot, he'd found it insanely attractive. She did not beat around the bush _a bit_.

But that meant he had to somehow shirk his insecurities, leave them here at home, and show up at her door as though he deserved to be there. As though he wasn't stupidly confused. He was stupidly confused, though. So stupidly confused.

How did guys without giant gaping holes in their chests handle dates with pretty women, he wondered? Was that something he could Google?

Or maybe she was exactly as nice as she seemed, unassuming and just as into him as Morgan kept insisting. He was probably doing her a huge disservice by putting her up on this goddess pedestal, like he made one misstep and she'd immediately hate him and end the date. Normal people weren't like that, and she was probably perfectly normal. Emphasis on the perfectly part, because God, wasn't she perfect?

And this was so insane. So crazy.

He got out of the shower and got dressed, looking at his reflection and staring at his wild, not-to-be-tamed curls. Should he go with natural? Slicked back? He smoothed his hands tightly over his hair and pulled the curls down. "Ew," he muttered, letting them bounce back again. Not slicked back.

This was the first date he'd been on in a long time, and he was losing his mind, maybe. Did he even really know how to do it anymore? He needed to just take a deep breath and be himself. That was the secret to success. Wasn't that what everyone always said about first dates? "Just be yourself!" he chirped at his reflection. And then he rolled his eyes at _himself_ and left the bathroom.

Ellie met him halfway down the hallway, a wince on her face.

"Whaaaat is it?" he asked dubiously.

"Remember how I told you it was totally okay for you to use the car tonight?" He shut his eyes tiredly, knowing what was coming. "Devon was called in. He needs to take it. It's just a short procedure but the timing is not good."

"What about his car?" he asked, wondering if he could get even a single break.

"It's in the shop, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Chuck, I'm sorry. Maybe he can give you a ride?" That got her a flat look. "Well, I thought I'd at least offer."

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Don't worry about it. The Herder it is. I'm glad I drove it home today."

"Hey, listen. If she's bothered by the car, she's silly, okay?"

"If you saw what she looked like when she smiles, you wouldn't say that."

"Hm?" she asked, already halfway down the hallway towards her own bedroom she shared with Captain Awesome.

"Nothing! Tell Devon the car's all his. And not to worry about it. I'll make a joke about the Herder or somethin' and it'll break the ice."

"That's my guy," she said.

He smiled at her retreating figure and went into his room, sitting down on his bed to put his socks and shoes on. There was a light rapping on his window as he frowned and looked up from his shoes. Of course Morgan was there, pointing down at the lock that was meant to keep him in particular out when Chuck wasn't home.

The one time he'd snuck in when it was just Ellie at home, Morgan had nearly been murdered by a rolling pin.

Rolling his eyes, he finished tying his last Converse sneaker, and he went over to open the window and let Morgan crawl in before going back to finish his shoes. "Hey. So I forgot to give you some advice."

"No, thank you. Appreciate the thought, though." He climbed to his feet and grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys to the Herder. Snagging his jacket last minute, just in case.

"Hear me out, dude! I printed this out for you and biked back as fast as I could. Take it with you. Ten Do's and Don'ts of dating. And it's from _Cosmopolitan_ which is, like, a really top level advice-giving women's magazine. So you know they know women." He thrust the sheet with the faded printer ink on it into Chuck's chest.

"Morgan. No."

"Why? It might help!"

"I'm not reading a dumb magazine thingy for dating. Leave me alone!"

He left his room, Morgan arguing the whole way after him, and when he finally got out into the courtyard he heard Ellie's voice behind him.

"Chuck! Hey...Hey," she said nearing him, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "These are leftover from the party."

"You put this together, sis?"

"Yep." She gave him her best closed-mouth smile as he took the bouquet, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Listen to me, Chuck. You deserve this night. You deserve to go out and have a good time, okay? Don't let your head ruin it, huh? Just enjoy yourself. And _be_ yourself."

There it was.

He chuckled quietly and nodded. "Gotcha. Thanks, sis."

"And, uh, don't forget...about the old girlfriend rule."

"Right," he said in a flat voice. "Got it. No mention of...her."

She beamed. He'd said the right thing. But then there was pride in her face, and happiness. He was making her happy and that, in turn, made him suddenly feel a lot better about tonight. "Aces, Charles." She met his eyes and her smile warmed. "You're aces."

"A dad quote," he said, grinning back. "I'm impressed. Love you, sis."

"I love _you_. Have fun."

"I will, I'll try." And he left just early enough to beat the traffic, knowingly leaving his sister with Morgan Grimes, alone in the courtyard. He was almost sorry for the little guy.

}o{

She came out of the bathroom, double checked the outfit she had picked out, and gently placed it on the bed. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she didn't like. It was worry for a civilian. That's what she was telling herself. He wasn't a child like her last mission. He was a capable adult, but one that seemed just as naive about life as the baby she rescued. They both had no idea of the games being played with their lives over their heads. They both seemed to be pawns in a much larger game that she had now been brought into. And just like the last mission, she was determined to protect him if he was innocent. She snorted. If. She would admit, part of her had underestimated him, in a way that made her uncomfortable with something that was bubbling up inside of her that she was just going to push back down, but Chuck Bartowski being part of a secret plot to infiltrate the government...not likely.

She strapped her knives to her ankle, feeling more covered, more protected, until she thought about him again. She tried to get him out of her mind. He was a mark, a civilian. She didn't even know if she believed the things she was telling herself, but this was what she did know: Chuck Bartowski deserved to have a life if he was innocent, and Sarah's gut told her he was innocent.

She pulled the hairpins out of their bag, opened a container that had poison and oh so carefully, dipped them in the liquid. She expertly placed them in her hair. They were stylish, and she hoped he liked them. She paused. She hoped he liked them…What was she doing? When was the last time she had been on a date? She and Bryce...well, they never "dated". They went out for the missions, to tail someone, to overhear someone, but a date? Anytime someone asked "what do you do?" the response had been, "an accountant." Her and Bryce, the accounting Andersons. She sighed. She wondered if she would she go out with Chuck Bartowski if this were real life.

She shook her head. No, none of that. This was about a mission...her last mission. Because when she got back it was time for her and Graham to have a long talk. This easy mission had been anything but. Actually it was time for him to listen, and for her to talk.

She crossed the room and picked up her kevlar vest. She slipped it over her shoulders, and pulled it tight, fastening the velcro fasteners around her waist. She finished getting dressed when she decided she needed to have words with Graham. He had to stop that burn-out from getting to Chuck. She was also getting a funny feeling from him...again. Maybe she could figure out what was going on. What intel did Bryce steal that was having him act this way? She picked up her phone, and grabbed her gun to calm her nerves as she began to pace. Why was she pacing?

"Graham," the voice said on the other line.

She took a deep breath to keep calm. She couldn't let him pick up on her nerves. "It's Walker, Director." Direct and to the point, that's what Graham appreciated. "You need to call off Casey, you need to let me vet this guy before we ruin an innocent life."

Graham was silent for a second. "Have you made contact with Bartowski?"

She began to pace again, and she held the gun to comfort herself. She was right giving up the baby to Emma. A gun shouldn't comfort someone. She had missed her chance for a normal life, for that house with the red door and the white picket fence. "He's picking me up for a date. I'll know more in a few hours. Call him off, Director."

Graham hesitated for a second, and then responded. "You're on your own on this one, Sarah. I can't help you if something goes wrong."

Why couldn't he? He was the Director of the CIA. Why couldn't he help her? What was going on that he wasn't telling her about? She knew what she should say, so she said that instead of what she wanted to say. "I don't know about this guy, Graham."

She could feel him through the phone. He "had" her right where he wanted her. She checked herself out in the mirror. Everything was as she wanted it. Even Graham. He had forgotten about his "Ice Queen" that he had created. He had forgotten that you can be cut by your own blade. "Nice guys aren't sent government secrets."

A knock on the door made her turn. She walked toward the door tucking the gun in her pants. If she had more time, there was more she could say, but she didn't. She knew what she should ask, she knew what he was expecting and she knew how to play the role. She had to play it, or Graham would suspect something, and she did, quickly, before she opened the door. "What should I do if he runs?" She opened the door.

There was no hesitation in his voice. "Kill him." She met eyes with Chuck. He smiled at her, and at that moment, she decided Agent Walker had a new mission. Find out everything she could about Chuck Bartowski. Protect him if he was innocent. Agent Walker had never failed a mission, and she wasn't about to now.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** DC here...so it came time to write the date, and I know I can do fluffy, I know I can do sweet, but guys, this was one of those times I, as the late great Dusty Rhoades would say, sat down at the learning tree, and let Steampunk do her thing. And oh my word did she. So sit back, relax, and treat yo eyes to the date we should have had. FYI there is absolutely no truth to the rumor that Steampunk has had to turn the firehose on me a couple of times to turn down the fluffiness...None...nope...didn't happen…..(shakes water off as he leaves….)

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK, we don't own the CHUCK characters, and we're making no money off of this, but maybe send help because we're having way too much fun and this is dangerous.

* * *

"Okay," he said as they stepped out of the elevator in the lobby. "Before we get out there, you need to know something. I-I mean, I need to tell you exactly what you're getting yourself into."

Sarah furrowed her brow and smirked at him. "What exactly am I getting myself into?" she asked with no small amount of humor in her tone.

He tilted his head and made a high-pitched humming sound. "Actually, I'm gonna look over here in this direction while I tell you this so that I don't see your reaction of complete and utter dismay and mortification...gives you a chance to cover it up. We're going to have to drive around LA in the company car," he rushed out.

Sarah raised her eyebrows as they rounded the corner and stepped onto the sidewalk. There was no mistaking what car he meant, as he held his hands up to block him from looking at her face. She was amused by his antics and she laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling it back down to his side. "Calm down. It's not that bad."

"Driving around town in a car that says NERD on the side in big block letters?" he asked, shrugging.

"You do it all the time, don't you?" she asked, shrugging back. "Trust me. I'll live."

This guy seriously needed a crash course in self-confidence, she decided. How much had he stressed over the prospect of picking up his date in this car, she wondered? Poor guy.

The drive to the restaurant he was taking her to was spent engaging in small talk. She asked him how long he'd been in Los Angeles, and he told her since he was born.

"So what you're telling me is I picked the perfect guy to show me around LA."

"Oh, hell yeah, ya did," he chuckled. "I know this place like the back of my hand. When, uh, when I was a kid, Morgan and I would collect up the money we made from mowing lawns and washing people's cars and stuff, and we'd hop on just about every bit of public transportation in town to explore."

"That sounds pretty fun."

"It was fun. Sometimes harrowing. Cannot tell you how often we got lost. I love him dearly, but man, that guy will never have any kind of sense of direction." He laughed and shook his head as she watched him closely, the lights he drove under flashing intermittently across his face. He was settling into this, she realized, now that she'd gotten him talking a bit.

And she liked how easy it was for her to set him at ease, just by being politely interested in him, in his life. "What'd you do? Where'd you go to?" she asked.

"I mean, what any twelve year old nerds would do. We went to comic book stores, libraries…" Then he stopped talking suddenly and blurted. "Ah! Here! Right here...This is something you need to know if you live here in LA." He slowed a bit, checking his mirror to make sure there weren't cars driving anywhere around him.

Sarah leaned forward and cracked up the second she saw the sign at the entrance of the parking lot.

"That's right, Sarah. The beloved Department of Motor Vehicles. Where the devil lays his head to rest."

She just laughed again, surveying him a little. "That's actually a pretty important place to show me, Chuck. So I appreciate it."

"Oh, good. I'll cross my fingers you don't end up there too often." Then he pointed out the other window to where there was a liquor store. "But theeeere…that's different…"

She cracked up again, shaking her head. "Depends on how this job hunt goes," she said, finding this already much more enjoyable than she'd bargained for.

"Oh, yeah? Well, what are ya looking for?" he asked.

"Um. Anything." That was the safest answer she could come up with.

"I'd tell you to apply for the open sales person position at the Buy More, but I refuse to do you dirty like that." He smiled harder at the sound of her laughter and it wasn't altogether a bad feeling, she found. "I mean, I could tell you to, but it'd be for purely selfish reasons."

"And what are those?"

"It'd be really nice to have someone else there with their head screwed on right."

She snorted, feeling warmth rise from her blouse as she felt his smile on the side of her face. "Why do you work there?" She realized how that sounded and she reached out a hand, gently laying it on his upper arm. "Not that there's anything wrong with it. I'd have this stupid broken phone and no way to contact potential employers if you hadn't fixed it for me yesterday."

He smiled a bit crookedly. "Nah, I'm not offended. It's a fair question. I slam my job and my employer, and sometimes even my coworkers, which probably isn't the nicest. But that company, the store in particular, has been good to me in, um, rough times. Guess it's hard to abandon 'em."

"I get that," she said quietly. He was perhaps altruistic, then? He was holding himself back, she surmised, because he didn't want to disappoint these people, this company, that gave him a chance when he was having a hard time of it?

She pondered about that hard time, outside of what she'd read in his file. He'd been kicked out of Stanford early for stealing tests apparently. It didn't seem all that believable right at this moment, not from where she was sitting. She could imagine that wasn't easy for him. What sort of a future had he pictured for himself back then, she wondered?

And now he was here, driving her to a Mexican restaurant, in a car he called a "Herder", working for eleven dollars an hour at an electronics retailer. She imagined this _wasn't_ what he'd pictured for himself when he first got into Stanford.

As Chuck pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant with a playfully ominous, "Here we aaaare", she smiled in amusement at him and wondered what it was about him that had made Bryce Larkin entrust government secrets with him, especially if they were as sensitive as Graham had made them seem. He was perfectly unassuming, charming in a sort of goofy way, and he was seemingly lacking in a healthy amount of self-esteem.

Granted, she supposed she understood why, with him having been at Stanford, and how much of a step down he must feel like he'd had to take to be where he was now. But on the other hand, he wasn't exactly...terrible to be around.

In fact…

As they walked to the front door of the restaurant, he did a few punches with his fists in celebration and drawled, "Margarita tiiiiiiiime", making her laugh and answer with an emphatic, "Yes it is."

And when he laughed at her response, she nibbled on the inside of her lip a little to keep from being too pleased by it.

They were sat immediately, sliding into a booth across from one another as the mariachi band finished a song. Chuck turned and made sure to clap for them and she watched him with soft, steady eyes.

This wasn't someone who knowingly acted against his government. This wasn't someone who would purposely help a rogue agent steal or hide incredibly sensitive intel. There was just no way. There was no guile in him. There was nothing under any kind of facade. She hadn't seen any trace of a facade to begin with. He was just...Chuck Bartowski. A regular guy.

A regular guy passing her a large margarita menu. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, looking at it. "It's front _and_ back? These are all different kinds of margaritas?"

"El Torero is specifically known for that margarita menu," he said with a bit of a proud grin.

She slid her gaze slowly up from the menu and smirked just enough to make him swallow hard. "You know the way to a girl's heart," she said. And then she broke character a bit and chuckled. "At least, _this_ girl. I love me a good margarita. How do I even choose?"

Chuck laughed. "Can I make a suggestion?" He held his hands out to the side, palm facing her. "And this isn't me tellin' you what to do at all. Just, if you're overwhelmed, which I usually am…"

"Make your suggestion. I'm all ears." She lowered the menu, leaning in a bit.

"Get the original lime margarita. The other ones are all fantastic. Trust me, I've tried most of 'em. Except the papaya. Sometimes papaya tastes like hangover mouth to me."

Sarah let out a genuine bark of laughter. "That is so weirdly specific."

"I know. I have crazy taste buds. It's a thing," he chuckled.

"I can't do this," she said, a serious look on her face. He almost looked nervous. "I can't be on a date with a guy with crazy taste buds. I've gotta call a cab or something." She made to grab her jacket and leave, dropping the act and laughing as he sat back and groaned, dropping his head on the seat behind him and laughing.

"You had me goin' for a second. Just trust me on the original lime, okay? That's the point I'm tryin' to make," he said with a grin, still obviously amused by her antics. "Nobody does the original like El Torero."

She trusted him and ordered the original lime like he'd suggested when the waiter came to take their orders, and they ordered their meals as well. As the waiter left, Sarah leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him a bit, letting him see some interest there. Sooner rather than later, she had to start asking questions, real questions. She wanted to be able to say for sure that he was not a willing participant in any of this.

And she was a little startled, and by extension frustrated, that she wanted him to be innocent as badly as she did.

"So tell me about yourself, Chuck."

"I work at the Buy More as the Nerd Herd supervisor," he answered immediately, a cheeky look on his face.

"Uuuuh, yeah, I knew that."

He chuckled and mimicked her pose, leaning his arms on top of the table. "What do ya wanna know? You can ask me anything."

 _You can ask me anything_ … He'd said it without blinking, no hesitation, his tone genuine. That alone was enough to convince her. But she kept going anyway.

"Is that all you do?" she asked. "Work?"

"On the crazier days at the Buy More, it really feels that way." He widened his eyes and chuckled.

"Uh, I've only been in there twice, but I still have to ask...Are there any days that _aren't_ crazy?"

Chuck laughed. "Ummmm. Well, no. It's more on a scale of crazy. From Hannibal Lector on a human flesh diet to Meryl Streep reading a nice historical fiction novel by the fire." She couldn't hold back a laugh at that. It was quite specific. "But to actually answer that first question you asked, I don't just work. Sometimes I sit around watching movies with my sister and her boyfriend when they get home from their shifts at the hospital, sometimes I mess around with programming on my computer, read...stuff…"

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, stuff." He shrugged.

"Your sister and her boyfriend?" she asked then, raising her eyebrow. "You're close with them?"

"Super close."

"You live close? Or with them?"

"Um, define _with_ , though. Because the set-up of the place is—Okay, yes. I live with my sister and her boyfriend." He winced. "Eleven dollars an hour makes it hard to have your own place. Or maybe announcing my income probably was a bad idea right then? Maybe." He let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"You're talking to someone who doesn't have a job, remember."

"Good point. Thank you." They exchanged a smile. "So yeah, I live with my sister and her boyfriend, Captain Awesome."

"Nooo," she said, letting out a bubbly laugh.

"It's true, though."

"So—So wait. You call him 'Captain Awesome'..."

"Yeah. Wait 'til you meet 'im." He said it so easily, as though that was a sure thing that was going to happen. As though he could see this extending past just one date. Already. It wasn't hubris or ego, either. She thought it might just be that he liked her. And she had to fight to keep the interested, happy smile on her face suddenly. "Everything he does is awesome. Climbing mountains, jumping out of planes...flossing."

She pulled her chin back in surprise and chuckled. "That's funny."

"Well, I'm a funny guy," he said, and she detected some teasing in the way he said it.

"Clearly. Which is good, 'cause, I am _not funny_ ," she drawled. She immediately saw the dismissal in his face, the dubious look in his narrowed eyes. But he didn't tell her otherwise with his words, and there was almost a sweetness in that, wasn't there?

"Is that your big secret, by the way?" he asked. "Because I've been sittin' here trying to figure out what's wrong with you…"

"Oh, plenty. Believe me."

"...and I was thinkin' either she's a cannibal or not that funny, and I was really pullin' for cannibal 'cause I've never met one before."

He was such a nerd, and in spite of his lack of self-esteem she'd already witnessed in just a few meetings and the hour since he'd picked her up at her door, there was such an ease with which he was...himself. No filtering the strange, bizarre things that popped into his head. No holding himself back. It was refreshing. It set her at ease.

"Uhh, not a cannibal," she said, nodding once. "But I did just come out of a long relationship, so I may come with baggage."

"Well, I can be your very own baggage handler."

For once, Agent Sarah Walker didn't know what to say to that. And she didn't know why she'd felt the need to talk about any kind of relationship. Maybe because that was what normal people talked about? Or...or maybe she was letting her guard down when she shouldn't be. But the pained, mortified look that clearly read _What in the hell did I just say oh my God_ was enough for her to brush her own discomfort to the side.

How was something so embarrassingly corny still charming when he said it? Maybe it was his recognition that it was terribly corny written all over his face. She looked to the side and pursed her lips. Still speechless. She knew for sure that this man was not Agent Larkin's accomplice. Not knowingly, at least.

"Uuuhhh!" he interrupted her thoughts and forged on like a trooper. "So, uh, the, uh, the guy. The ex. The guy. The ex is the reason you moved here from…" He paused.

"Uh, D.C."

"Right."

"Yeah. After I realized that all my friends were _his_ friends and that everything about Washington reminded me of…" He voice halted for a moment. She'd almost said it. "Bruce." Good enough. "I needed change. A big one."

Like potentially leaving the CIA. Though that had almost nothing to do with Bryce, and had almost everything to do with Ryker and the knowledge that she'd been a puppet for the CIA for going on a decade now, her hands dripping with blood, and a soul-deep fatigue that existed in every last facet of her being no matter how much sleep she tried to get between missions.

"Bruce." She felt a spike of nerves for a moment. And then he smirked. "Yeeah...you give me crap for being Chuck and you went out with a Bruce?" The nerves dissipated and she let out a breathy laugh. "That's nice. That's real good."

"Soo—So what about you? What skeletons do you have in your closet?" she asked, then. Because he'd given her the perfect way to prod him for information about himself. He got a look on his face then, like he wasn't expecting that question and she wondered if this was a bad first date question. Had she not put as much teasing into it as she should have? "Any secrets?" She paused as he continued to look a bit like a deer in headlights. "Any women?"

"Uhhhhh...yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, um...Actually back in college there was…" He cleared his throat and fidgeted in his booth. "There was one. Um. Back in college. I mean, there was...I had someone. It was…" And then he just stopped, staring at her. And it was strange, because he didn't look uncomfortable, exactly. It was more like he flat-out didn't know what else to say, didn't know how to finish that thought. She just stared back, lowering her chin a little, waiting…

"But that's all over with now," he rushed out. "And talking about her is as useless as the pile of Starbucks gift cards people have given me as gifts over the years, rotting away in my desk drawer at home."

Sarah laughed, ducking her head as she realized every time she thought she might have him on something, he went ahead and knocked her back on her heels by saying something bizarre but cute, or funny. And as she looked up at him again, she found she didn't want to stop herself from saying, "I like you, Chuck."

Because she did. Already. And wasn't that just great? she thought to herself with an inward roll of her eyes.

She sipped her margarita, deciding she really liked that, and maybe she should be careful about having more than just the one because she was getting much too comfortable sitting here in this booth, across from him, listening to him talk about his family, his work, the self-deprecating humor...And more than anything else, there were the looks he sent her when he thought she wasn't looking, his eyes soft, eyebrows turned up in the middle, as though he couldn't believe he was sitting here with her. Like he was in a dream or something that someone hadn't woken him up from yet.

It was sweet and it made her uncomfortable all at once. Because he really and truly had no idea.

She did, though. She was certain that this guy wasn't guilty of anything besides maybe basing too much of his self-worth off of some girl he liked in college. Or maybe she was just assuming considering what he'd said and how awful he'd looked mentioning it. Not to mention how fast he'd brushed it away.

When they finally finished eating, Chuck spent a good three minutes arguing with her about the check, never actually pushing, but being adamant enough about wanting to pay that she finally relented. It hadn't sat well with her, though, so when he'd helped her put her jacket on, she "accidentally" bumped his hip with her hand and slipped thirty dollars into his pocket without him realizing it. He'd figure it out later, after she was gone, on a plane back to Langley.

She fought back the melancholy as they wandered out onto the sidewalk and began strolling along side by side. He didn't make any kind of move, not to put his hand on her back, touch her arm, hold her hand, and it was...interesting. Instead he stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to glance at her.

"So D.C., huh?"

"Yeah. D.C." She smiled at him and he smiled back.

"That means you're good with the whole snow thing, then." She laughed. "Because I need to warn you, if you're a snow girl, that's not a thing here in LA proper. Now...you can find snow up in the mountains more inland during the right seasons, buuut…" He finished it off with a chuckle.

"I can take it or leave it. I didn't exactly come here for the weather." No, she came here to find out if Agent Larkin was working with someone else, primarily Chuck Bartowski, supervisor of the Buy More Nerd Herd. Not that this was something she'd be telling said Nerd Herd supervisor.

If she played her cards right, she could finish this date, get Graham on the line, and tell him to have them call that crazy bastard Casey off. Chuck was innocent. He had no idea what any of this was. He was just a nice guy. A legitimately nice guy.

A legitimately nice guy she couldn't help liking and wondering, not for the first time, what it might be like to go out on a real date with him, one that didn't involve her feeling him out for the potential to betray his country. What might it be like to actually go out on the town with a guy like Chuck Bartowski and just...enjoy? Have a conversation. Walk around and have him show her things like the DMV and liquor stores?

And maybe it was right then, in that moment, that she let her guard down a little bit and allowed herself to loosen up, enjoy.

"Does that mean if the apocalypse happened and LA was suddenly turned into a winter wonderland, you wouldn't make it?" she asked.

"Whoa, whoa! Whoa, there!" He held out a hand towards her in faux offense, and she laughed, rocking forward. "Slow down, little missy. Okay? I wouldn't just curl into a ball in the snow and freeze to death. Oh my God!"

She laughed again. "I wouldn't let you, don't worry."

"You tryin' to say you'd keep me warm?" He looked like he regretted it immediately, somehow managing to shove almost his entire fist into his mouth and clamping his teeth down onto it. He pulled it back out just as quickly. "You gave me an inch and I took, like, three miles. Can we just ignore that? Can we pretend I didn't just? Thanks."

Sarah cracked up and put a hand on his arm. "It's done."

"Thank you. Seriously. Oh my God."

"I kind of take the blame for it, so don't worry. I've got your back." And he really couldn't even have an inkling of an idea just how intensely she had his back at the moment. That there was potentially a guy out there right now who was headed here to put a bullet in him, that she was wracking her brain for a way to get proof to Graham that he wasn't working with Larkin, that he was just an innocent civilian.

He led her out onto an overpass then, and she decided to change the subject, give him a bit of a hand.

"So, um...where we going?" she asked, since she was following him and really had no idea where he was leading her.

"Well, do you like music?"

She paused, unable to really come up with a lie. "I guess."

It made him laugh. "You guess? What's your favorite band?" She just beamed at him, still not knowing how to answer. That wasn't really ever something she paid attention to. "Ooohh my gosh. Oh my gosh."

He shook his head and looked away, and she decided to maybe take a page out of his book this time. "God, I'm not funny. I don't listen to music. This must be your worst date ever, right?"

But Chuck had stopped a few feet back, she realized a bit belatedly, and she turned to watch him. He'd frozen, facing away from her, looking down at the street below as police vehicles blasting their sirens sped past. He looked stricken...a little strange.

"I was waiting for you to say no," she continued, watching him closely.

But then he spun on his heel and gaped at her. "Sorry…S—Uh, I kinda zoned out there for a second. Uh, no. No! God, no. You kiddin' me? I've had—I've had much, _much_ worse experiences. Oh my God." The way he gently put his hand on her elbow and guided her to walk with him again set her at ease immediately, and she grinned, watching him stumble to clean up the minor mess he'd made taking so long to answer. "In the eleventh grade, actually…"

"Oh! Oh, you have to go back that far?" she exclaimed, cracking up. "Come on!"

"I don't date all that much!"

"Suuuure. Sure, Chuck. Got me on a rollercoaster over here." And she smiled in a way that let him know she was just teasing him.

"Sorry. It's not purposeful, I promise. I'm just a dipshit."

"You are not," she chuckled. "Stop it. I don't typically ask dipshits to show me around when I move to a new place."

"Not that you know of. Us dipshits have a way of sneakin' up on ya with the dipshittedness."

Sarah snorted outright and shook her head. "That's bullshit and I don't believe you."

"Fine, fine. But I'll have you know, a Buy More customer called me one just the other day, and they say in retail that the customer is always right." He grinned cheekily, playing with the keys to the Nerd Herd car he'd driven them in between his hands now.

"Also bullshit. The customer is often wrong, and sometimes they're big stupid assholes about it, too."

"Oh, wow. Wow, can you be my manager, please?"

"Is there an opening for management at the Buy More?" He winced. "What? Did I...say something…?" She felt a bit unsure. Had she offended him?

"No, no. Not at all. No. There's just this...it's an AssMan position." She made a face. "Sorry. Assistant manager. AssMan. Ahem…" She giggled. "I was putting in my application. Or, uh...thinking about it."

"Wow, really? Good luck. I hope you get it, Chuck."

"I haven't—I haven't even—I mean, I have to turn it in first. Heh." He rubbed the back of his head. "But thanks! I appreciate it. Cross your fingers, and uh...I'll keep ya updated." He made a goofy face and crossed his fingers. She couldn't help but notice he'd said something that insinuated he was foreseeing another meeting between them, a future date, an actual friendship or relationship maybe… And it made her...sad.

"You'll get it," she said with an emphatic nod. "I'm sure you will."

His smile was warm. "You have any suggestions?"

"Who, me? Uhhh…"

"Dear God, whatever you do...don't say 'just be yourself'. I heard that too much today and I can't hear it again." Sarah immediately picked up on the meaning of that, even though he might not have meant for her to. She could picture this sweet nerdy guy asking his people—his sister, that Captain Awesome guy, but hopefully not that bearded friend Morgan—for advice before this date tonight. It made her insides feel a little...soft.

"Okay, well…" She giggled. "I won't say just be yourself. But maybe channel the guy who managed to get a whole bunch of Buy More employees to set up a makeshift stage for an impromptu ballet recital to make a little girl happy and hopefully keep her dad outta the doghouse."

They turned the corner and he peered at her for what felt like a long time. Then he cleared his throat and looked away. "Yeah, that's...really good advice. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I have my moments."

"I dunno. Maybe it's just meeee, buuut...I just get this feeling like you have an awful lot of moments, Sarah." His smile was so warm, his words managing to make her speechless for a few moments. She had to remind herself that he was talking to some other girl, someone she'd invented just for the night, and not her. Then why did it feel like he was talking to her?

"Maybe it's just those cool sticks you've got in your hair or somethin'."

He caught her off-guard and she barked out a laugh, having to take a few extra steps as she leaned forward with laughter, and he looked so pleased about it, and this was becoming a legitimate problem—a problem she wasn't feeling like stopping at the moment.

"Oh. Hey. We're in here…" He put a hand on her arm and gestured towards the line in front of what looked like your average downstairs bar. She moved to get in the back of the line but he shook his head and gestured for her to follow him. "No, no... Listen, you picked the right tour guide, okay? You don't wait in lines at the bars when you're out with Chuck."

She raised her eyebrows with a teasingly impressed look and followed him past the bouncer who he exchanged some dorky handshake with, and as they walked into the hallway, Chuck leaned in close. "Full disclosure, this is literally the only place I can do this with." Sarah laughed again and he chuckled, raising his voice as the band playing downstairs became louder, the further inside they got. "I did the owner a solid fixing his tech free of charge."

"Ah, cool!"

He shrugged as they got to the top of the stairs, and she did a quick scan of the place down below, out of habit more than anything, the red, dim lighting making it hard to see much more than the band on the stage and the jumping (she guessed that was dancing?) people on the floor underneath.

They got a little ways down the stairs as he made up a few silly rules of the bar so that she wouldn't break any of them. Things like not feeding the fish (there were no fish), no moonwalking, no pirating...and he was sure to make it clear he meant the seafaring version and not the music stealing version. And finally, he said, no sliding down the banister of the stairs. And right after he said that, he half sat on the railing and made a goofy little sound, sliding the rest of the way to the bottom and letting out a boyish chuckle. She'd already been beaming at his antics, but that last bit made her laugh out loud as she paused on the staircase and finally followed him down the rest of the way.

"First thing's first. We gotta get drinks," he said and he moved up onto his tiptoes to glance over at the bar. "Yesssss! Jenna's tending the bar tonight. She will make you your perfect drink. Trust. Best bartender in LA."

"Oh, really?" she asked, raising her eyebrow and following him as he weaved through the crowd.

He glanced at her over his shoulder and laughed. "Jenna is fifty-seven and lives with her husband and two parakeets, so don't you even give me that eyebrow raise, as stupidly pretty as it is."

She smirked and it became a lot warmer of a smile when he turned back to look forward again. _Stupidly pretty_ was probably the nicest and cutest thing she'd heard someone say about her in...longer than she could remember.

When they got to the bar, the woman with the jet black hair and the tank top that had a blond rocker-looking chick on it caught sight of Chuck and threw a big grin his way. "Heyyyy, if it isn't Chuckles!" Sarah wasn't sure but she might've caught a blush on his face under the red lights. Jenna made her way over and gave Chuck a half hug over the bar. "Usual?" she asked.

"Uh, yes. Please. And this is Sarah. She's my guest for tonight—"

"Guest or date?" The older woman winked. Sarah thought it'd be smart not to answer that question, and instead she just turned a toothy smile on Chuck, who ducked his head in embarrassment. "I'm just messin' with ya, kid. Hi, Sarah. Jenna. What are you drinkin'?"

"I, um...I dunno."

"You seem like an international woman of mystery." Sarah gaped for a moment, then schooled her features. "You're hiding a lot behind those eyes. I'll make you a martini fit for Emma Peel."

The woman seemed to just be joking with her as she moved away to make the drinks, but it still left Sarah feeling a bit...seen. Chuck must've seen a bit of a startled look on her face because he laughed and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, leaning in to speak so she could hear him over the band. "Don't pay attention to Jenna. She likes to freak people out by making these weird fortune teller statements when she makes drinks for 'em. It's always way far off, too, but it still gets 'em every time."

She just grinned and nodded. Jenna came back with the drinks and Chuck moved to pay, but Sarah stopped him with a hard look. He actually let her pay for the drinks, which was...refreshing. Incredibly refreshing. And she gave Jenna an extra big tip and felt a little silly about it. As much as she knew the woman deserved a big tip, the reason she'd really done it was because she thought maybe spies weren't big tippers...Maybe the woman would be dispelled of any notion that Sarah wasn't a CIA agent after all, that she'd been wrong.

Sarah felt like an idiot, but she covered it up with a grin as Chuck tried to form a bit of a barrier between her and people who might knock her very full martini by dancing too drunkenly near her.

He pointed out an empty couch in the corner and she nodded, and they made their way over to sit. It wasn't exactly an atmosphere that was conducive to conversing, so they just sort of peered at one another, smiling. It felt good. It felt normal and real. And she let herself enjoy it because who would really know about it besides her when it came down to it?

Chuck kept pushing his hand down his thigh, clutching his drink with his other hand, as he stared up at the band and bobbed his head a little. He was a bit awkward now, as though he didn't know how to proceed.

So she leaned to the side and bumped his shoulder with hers. "They're good!" she said.

"Good!" He blurted. "Good." He glanced away then as she looked up at the stage, nodding to the beat. When she turned to him again, meaning to say something to wipe the anguished awkward look off of his face, she caught something out of the corner of her eye.

And immediately, her guard was up again, all pretenses of enjoyment, any notion she'd get to spend the rest of this night like a regular girl on a date with a regular boy absolutely gone. She had a job to do. And Chuck was in serious danger. For that matter, so was she.

Everywhere she looked, she saw men in suits—obvious feds, she guessed NSA. They'd never learn how to properly blend in, the idiots. They stuck out like sore thumbs.

She turned and looked forward again. What could she do? How did she get them out of here when they were surrounded?

Then an idea struck her. She turned to Chuck and grabbed his hand.

"Let's dance."

* * *

 **A/N:** UNDER THE MOONLIGHT ... THE **_SERIOUS_** MOONLIGHT ...

I had to. As we all know, though, the date isn't over. We'll be back with the rest of it soon, folks! Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Let us know and leave a review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** We'll be brief. Thanks for the kind words and we hope you continue to enjoy this story as we work our way through the pilot still.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK and we aren't making money off of this story.

* * *

They rushed out of the night club with Sarah tugging on his arm. The date was definitely over now….if she could call it that...she could. Chuck looked quite confused. "Where's the fire?"

She never turned toward him, just heading toward his car. "Chuck, give me your keys."

Chuck was a bit taken aback. "I don't mean to be old-fashioned, but the company only wants employees... nerds, driving the Nerd Herd mobile. I mean, it's kinda, you know…" He dangled the keys in the air.

She didn't have time. HE didn't have time. While he was talking she quickly picked the lock on the door and got in. "Get in the car," she ordered.

Chuck had a perplexed look on his face. "How did you get in to my car?"

What had been a funny situation suddenly got a whole lot more serious when a black SUV headed in their direction. She yelled this time. "Get in the car right now!"

Chuck was beginning to freak out. "Sarah…" he nearly whimpered.

She had no time for this. She still didn't know if he was innocent...Yes she did, she just didn't have proof, and time was running out to get that proof. In fact, if they didn't get away, time was up...for him...and God help her, that wasn't an option.

"Just get in!"

Chuck jumped in and Sarah slammed the car in reverse. He yelled the entire time she drove the car backwards. He muttered under his breath she drove better backwards than he did forwards. She caught him looking back once. He paled, like he was about to throw up, and then didn't look backwards anymore. He muttered things the whole way, and Sarah had to ignore him and drove on.

"Sarah, you're not even looking! Wait, wait, wait. Who are these guys? What do they want?" The SUV rammed into the front fender of the Nerd Herder. Chuck was beside himself. He just kept muttering "Oh, My God!" over and over. He mumbled something about wetting himself, but she decided for both their sakes to ignore it.

As she drove backwards, Sarah came up with a plan. It wasn't the best plan, it required Chuck but it was all they had. "Tell me when to turn."

Her request made him look at her. He looked confused, and to be fair it was more of an order and she could tell he was trying to process what she was asking. It did snap him out of his worry and he turned to look behind them. "Uh, uh, left in five seconds!"

The SUV hit them again, and Sarah knew it was time. "Your left or my left?"

Chucks eyes widened. "What?"

Uh, oh, Sarah thought. This could be bad… "Too late!"

She whipped the wheel, running the car backwards through a narrow opening, forcing the SUV to stop. The went backwards down a flight of stairs, Chuck screaming the entire way. The car was in shambles.

Sarah knew she had very little time, she had to get the proof she needed. HE couldn't go out like this. She wouldn't let it happen, she couldn't. "Listen to me, Chuck. Those men will hurt you. They're from the NSA and they're after you."

Chuck turned to her. They had the wrong person, that had to be it. "Me? Why, why? Why me? I'm nobody. I'm the supervisor of a Nerd Herd at a Buy More. Maybe one day I'll be assistant store manager and I don't even know if I want that job. You know, that's not your problem... but that is." She turned to see what Chuck was pointing at. It was the SUV. It crashed into them, T-boning the Nerd Herder.

Sarah got out of the car, pulling Chuck with her. "Get out of the car." They began to run, but he tripped. "Let's go, Chuck." He fell, and Sarah spun around to check on him.

The driver of the SUV pointed the vehicle at Sarah and hit the gas. Chuck screamed, "Sarah, look out!" She looked down, saw the plates in the street for the emergency blockade, looked over at the guard booth and turned back to the SUV. Casey seemed to grin as the vehicle hurtled toward her. She dropped, reached down with her right hand, came up, pivoted to her left, and her throw was true. It hit the emergency button, and the emergency blockade sprung up. She continued to turn to the left, like a very tall ballerina and dropped down, her fingertips, touching the ground, and she squatted on the balls of her feet, ready to dive away if necessary. The SUV hit the blockage and sparks flew everywhere.

Chuck came up, shock covering his face. "Sarah!"

Sarah stood immediately while calling for back-up. "Request emergency air evac. Track location, we're on foot." She grabbed Chuck's hand and they ran. "Let's go!"

They went up the side of the building to the roof, and Sarah knew she had just minutes to figure this thing out…just minutes to save him. "How well do you know Bryce Larkin?"

Chuck was gasping for air. "What? How do you... how do you know Bryce?"

"We worked together at the CIA," she replied, scoping out their current situation.

Chuck's eyes went wide. Shock covered his face again. "The what?! The CIA? Bryce is a spy?! Bryce Larkin from Connecticut is a spy?"

Either he was innocent or he was playing dumb. She hated this but she had to pressure him, she had to know. "A rogue spy. Did he try to contact you?"

Chuck looked around like he was trying to gather his thoughts. "I haven't heard from Bryce in... wait. No, he... he-he sent, he sent me an e-mail."

Sarah spun having heard that. "Did you open it?" Her heart sank.

"Yeah, It was, it was a line from Zork."

Sarah had no idea what the hell that was, but it sounded so Chuck Bartowski. She didn't even have time to think about what that meant. Was this some code? "What?"

"Zork, it's a video game that we used to play. It was like a riddle, and I solved it and then there was, uh, pictures. Lots and lots of pictures."

Damn it, he saw the sensitive intel. She had no idea what kind of intel, what was on it, what Bryce had stolen. But it was important enough for her to be here, important enough for the NSA to be gunning for them.

"You saw them?" He never answered, he swallowed, and his face was answer enough. She had seconds to figure this out. "Uh, your computer, did you back it up? Is there an external drive?"

"It crashed a week ago." So far there was no copy of the intel. This guy was no spy. He wasn't with Bryce. He was an innocent who got an email from Bryce Larkin, rogue spy, who knew him a long time ago. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Was I not supposed to look at those pictures?"

She caught movement on the other side of the roof out of the corner of her eye. Damn it, time had run out. Please let her save this innocent man. She could do this. She saved a baby. She could do this. "Okay, I may have to aim my gun at you, so just don't freak out."

Chuck's eyes widened. "Why?"

Casey appeared behind him, rubbing his eye. "It's late. I'm tired. Let's cut the crap and give him to me now. He belongs to the NSA."

Sarah pulled her gun on Chuck making him gasp. "The CIA gets him first."

Casey pulled his gun on Sarah and advanced. "You come any closer and I shoot." Sarah knew she had to come up with something to save them….and it had to be now.

}o{

Chuck was freaking out. "Sarah... I'm freaking out." He realized by the look on his face that he didn't need to tell her that for her to know it.

The NSA guy spoke, the weariness obvious in his voice. "You shoot him, I shoot you. I leave both your bodies here, go out for a late snack. I'm thinking maybe pancakes."

Chuck had heard about all he could take. He turned and ran even as Sarah yelled at him not to.

He knew he had no chance of getting away but he had to try and then he saw the building in front of him. This time the feeling in his head came on quickly, but he was ready. The ridiculous pictures flew through his head but they made all the sense in the world. For once in his life, Chuck Bartowski KNEW what had to be done. He KNEW it was up to him.

He spun toward Sarah and pointed in the direction of the building. "They're gonna kill him." Sarah glanced at the NSA guy and he glanced back.

NSA guy then glanced at Chuck, his gun still trained at Sarah. He snarled at Chuck, "Kill who?"

Chuck had to explain this quickly before he ended up shot...or worse. "Stanfield, the general. The General Stanfield, the NATO guy." The NSA guy looked at Sarah. Chuck could tell he thought it was a ploy. Sarah had a speculative look on her face as she glanced at Chuck. Chuck had had it. It had been a long evening. He had gone out to dinner with what he thought was the most wonderful woman in the world. Instead, he found out that she had only asked him out because she was a spy assigned to him. He could take a lot, but today...today he reached his limit. He rolled his eyes, exasperated and began to explain. "Look, something is wrong with me, okay? I don't know what it is, but something is very, very wrong with me, and I'm remembering things that I shouldn't know."

Sarah looked confused, but she kept the gun pointed at him. "Okay, Chuck, talk to me. Like what?"

Really, Sarah? "I don't know. I don't know. For example, uh... there was, there was a Serbian demolitions expert at the Large Mart today. That's kind of odd, wouldn't you say? Look, last week the NSA, you guys intercepted some blue prints, blue prints of a hotel, that hotel. And then the CIA, you guys found a file of schematics of a bomb in Prague. The bomb is in that hotel!" The NSA guy swung his gun toward Chuck as he said that. Chuck noticed Sarah took her gun off of him and pointed it toward the NSA guy.

There was a sneer on the guy's face as the red laser dot danced on Chuck's chest. "He was working with Bryce."

Sarah surprisingly came to Chuck's defense before he could say anything. "No, he opened Bryce's e-mail." The NSA guy slowly turned his head toward Sarah as she looked to Chuck again. "Chuck, those pictures that you saw...Could they have told you this?"

The NSA guy glanced at Sarah, like he was trying to figure out what to say. "Those pictures were encoded with secrets, government secrets. If he saw them, then he knows them."

Chuck tried to process what he said. "There were thousands of 'em."

Sarah blinked. For the first time tonight she looked like how Chuck had felt: confused, shocked, and just all around dismayed. She looked at the other agent. "Wait a minute. You're telling me government secrets are in his head?"

He shrugged and moved the laser sight to Chuck's forehead, Chuck watching it the entire time. Like he was a damn professor pointing something out on a PowerPoint for the class instead of pointing a live weapon at a human being. "Chuck _is_ the computer."

He had a laser sight pointed toward his head, he had the woman he thought he'd been crazy about arguing with a crazy grumpy NSA agent. And...wait...what? He was the what now? "What did you, what did you say? What does that mean?"

Chuck saw something on Sarah's face. Was it desperation? Why? She was a CIA agent, apparently. Wasn't she supposed to have this under control? Wasn't that her job? Or was it about him? Why should she care about him? Why was he thinking about that right now when the rest of this was going on…?

"Chuck, you have to listen to me. You have to tell us where…"

He SNAPPED, interrupting her. "What's happening to me?"

Sarah stared at him, intensely. An hour ago, he wouldn't felt some nice fluttery feelings at that look, but right now he had a gun pointed at his forehead. And some important guy, and some innocent other people, were about to be blown up by a bomb.

"You said there was a bomb. Is there time to stop it?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"What? What? Are you crazy?"

The NSA guy looked at him like he was a child, lowered the laser sight to his chest, and began to explain to him in a patronizing voice which was its own level of crazy, because...well...he still had a GUN pointed at him. "No, we're the good guys. We get paid to keep bombs from exploding."

He had to get out of this. Right now! "Look, I can't, I can't help you, okay? I really wish that I could, but I can't. Call Bryce. He's the guy that can save the day."

Sarah snapped off her words. "Bryce is dead!" Bryce...dead….Bryce was dead. He was dead? Something nasty creeped up his spine as he realized all the bad things he'd thought about the guy...Chuck couldn't think ill of the dead. For all they had been through, Chuck still thought of him as a friend… Chuck tried to process it, and he saw her face soften. Here they were in the middle of a Wild West standoff and she was trying to soften the blow. Bryce was dead. He was dead. "He died sending those secrets to you."

He just couldn't wrap his head around it. Dead...because of the email he sent. How'd he die? He was dead. Oh God. Someone had died because of all of this. A human being... "Bryce is dead…?"

Sarah gave him the slightest of nods, and then he saw it, in her eyes...something...a lot of somethings...regret, pain, but the one that confused him the most was the look that she wanted to comfort him. That was crazy. It was official, his mind had snapped. He couldn't be processing that right. That's what it was...Now that he could see and understand weird pictures he couldn't understand normal emotions on people's faces, anymore.

Chuck met Sarah's blue eyes, stricken...Until there was a loud bang, the NSA guy shooting his gun into the air. They both jumped and spun to look at him. Chuck wondered if this guy had been hugged enough as a child. "Yeah, and he's gonna have a lot of company unless you start talking. So, pretty please... Can we defuse the bomb now?"

Chuck glanced at Sarah. She didn't say a word, she didn't move a muscle, but something in her eyes told him what to do. He took a deep breath and felt ridiculous calm given the situation. "According to the schedule, the general's already on the stage." Casey shrugged and the three took off.

They entered the lobby when Sarah grabbed Chuck and surprised him. He was surprised by the intensity. And...was that a sliver of trust there? Or was this thing screwing up his brain?

Sarah looked at the NSA agent as she grabbed Chuck. "Wait! Casey, wait! We can't take him in. He's too valuable."

Casey...So this guy was named Casey. Casey what? It didn't matter. Casey agreed, unceremoniously shoving Chuck to the floor. "Okay, Johnny Commodore. You stay here, but you tell us where to go."

Chuck looked up from the ground. "Uh, the easiest way?"

"No. Fastest, Chuck," Sarah replied.

Chuck pointed at her, running through the schematics in his head. He could tell them, but Sarah said the fastest… "The fastest. Got it." He got up and scurried toward the bomb, the other two right behind him. He didn't spare a single thought as to the danger of running straight at what he knew was a live bomb. He just went.

He heard her behind him. "Chuck, stop! Chuck, wait!" He led them into the dining room and they realized how big a problem they had with this massive room.

"Chuck, where is it?" Sarah asked.

Chuck looked around. The room was huge. It could be anywhere. He was gonna die because of this bomb, everyone in here was going to die because of this bomb. Including Sarah, and damn him for that thought. "I don't, uh... I don't, uh…That's the guy from the Large Mart!" He saw the guy run away from something. He saw it, and fear ran through him. He gathered all his courage and the words still sounded a bit weak coming out of his mouth. "That's it." Casey grabbed him and pushed him toward the bomb. "Uh, right here."

Chuck looked at Sarah's face. There was fear there for a moment. Chuck didn't want to know what she had seen to make her that look cross her beautiful features. "Oh, god." She'd moved the cover off of the bomb, and it didn't look good.

Casey was no nonsense. "No time to evacuate. Ideas?"

"Disconnect the laptop," Sarah replied. Chuck noticed she looked like him when he was running game scenarios through his head.

Casey took stock of the situation. "There's no trigger. The cables."

Sarah shook her head. "NO! I had thought of that but remembered a bomb in Tanzania." Casey gave her an appreciative look. "Definitely a trap." Casey nodded.

Security ran up on them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Stanfield saw what was going on and took control of the situation. "Uh... ladies and gentlemen, we-we may have a cautionary situation here, so we'll take a short break." The room began to evacuate.

Sarah turned to Chuck. "Chuck, is there anything else you remember about the bomb?"

Chuck had no idea, no clue what to say, and with both Agent Walker and Casey staring at him it was making him very uncomfortable. That, of course, was exactly when Chuck's cellphone went off. He took the call while Sarah and Casey went back to the bomb.

"Hi, Morgan."

"Hey...How's it going?" He could hear the tone in his friend's voice and he wasn't even slightly in the right state of mind for this right now.

"Little busy right now, buddy."

"In a good way? Details."

Seriously? What if he _was_?

"Why are you calling?"

"I don't know, just... laying on your bed, Ellie's with the captain. I was gonna hang out with Anna but she's working on all the computers that got a case of the Demovas. So, I figured I'd check in. You old…" Chuck hung up the phone, the idea hitting him.

For the first time since Stanford, since his days as Piranha, he felt like himself. He rolled up his sleeves and pushed his way in. Sarah stepped back, shocked. "Okay, okay, I have an idea."

Casey grabbed him. "That's not an Xbox. And you're not a X-Man."

Chuck really wanted to explain to him what the X-Men were, and why he was obviously _not_ one... but this wasn't the best time. "I understand that. This is a prism express laptop, okay? We sell this at our store. It has a DOS override." Sarah stared at him and their eyes met. _I can do this,_ he said with his eyes. _Are you sure?_ she seemed to reply. "I think I can do this. I can do this, please."

Sarah took a deep breath. She looked Casey in the eye. "He's our best shot."

Casey seemed to think about it, and he must have realized they had little time and no other viable choice, and he took his hand off of him. "Go."

Chuck wiggled his fingers, and cracked them, making Casey more exasperated. Sarah leaned in close over his shoulder as he began to type. "Mr. Bomb, meet Mr. Internet."

Casey looked at Sarah, irritated. "He's searching for porn." Chuck threw a finger up and made an 'eh' sound, while he saw Sarah take the wrath of Casey's glare in his peripheral. Chuck hit the button and closed his eyes. Sarah and Casey had no warning and got the pleasure of watching the virus do its work. As the timer counted down to one, it short-circuited and died.

Sarah turned to him, shock on her face. "You did it," she gasped, relief in her voice.

"I did it. I did it. I... I defused a real bomb. This was a real... What if I was wrong?" The weight of what he had done came crashing down around him. And what would have happened if he hadn't done it… He pulled away from the computer.

"Don't puke on the c-4, huh?" Casey walked away with that while Sarah laid her hand encouragingly on his shoulder.

Her hand finally left his shoulder and he could feel her reassuring presence drift away from him. Somebody grabbed him then, hoisted him back to his feet, moved him out of their way, and people he didn't know surrounded the bomb and laptop. Police? Agents? He didn't know. He needed to just go, get out of here.

His feet moved him out of the room altogether, as if he was in a trance or something, as everything flooded through him. He felt numb. Confused. His date was a CIA agent, his old classmate at Stanford who'd wrecked his life had been a CIA agent before he emailed him an important thing that had then gotten the guy killed apparently, NSA agents then tried to kill Chuck, and he'd just used a porn virus to stop a bomb from going off.

Mere hours ago, he'd been nervous about a date. Picking out clothes for a freaking _date_ was the biggest worry of his existence.

And now there was this...this whole thing with the weird pictures and how the hell did he know this stuff? Why was his head hurting? It was hurting pretty bad, actually. But it was starting to dull. Maybe. He didn't know. _Chuck_ is _the computer._ What the hell did that even mean?

He wandered out into the cool night air, too numb and confused still to even feel how much nicer the air out here was as opposed to the air in the stuffy, warm ballroom in the hotel. And that was when he stumbled across his very own agents...

And of course they were arguing over him like he was a piece of property. _Who gets to keep the dog after the divorce, the CIA or the NSA?_ he thought nastily. Well, in Casey's eyes he probably was not much more than that, and in Sarah's….he wasn't sure. It was complicated enough with her before he knew she was a spy.

The argument continued, and he just let it until he heard them mention his family. That snapped him out of his numbness and he felt fury flood him, and make his chest ache, even.

He walked up to them boldly. "What _about_ my sister?"

Sarah shot Casey a warning look. "Nothing. We were just discussing—"

Chuck cut in. He was laying his cards on the table right now. Consequences be damned. "No, no, no, hold on a second. You have to leave my family and my friends out of this."

"We'll see," Casey popped back. Sarah _glared_ at Casey. If it hadn't been the seriousness of the situation, Chuck would have taken more time to think about that.

Chuck. Was. Done.

"Look, Bryce sent that e-mail to _me_. I'm the one remembering your secrets. Which means you have to listen to me, both of you. And right now…?" He paused. And then he realized how tired he was. "I'm going to go home."

Casey grabbed him. "No, you're not. Uh-uh." Chuck pulled away and swore for the briefest second he saw respect in Casey's eyes. The look on Sarah's face was more of someone who was torn.

Chuck looked at both of them and pointed toward them as he talked. "You... you need me."

And he walked away. He didn't care what they did...but he was pretty sure they would find him sooner rather than later. Right then, he needed to think.

"That's correct, Director." Sarah was on the phone with Graham. He was beyond unhappy. "I can work with him." She chose her next words very carefully. "I have established something of a relationship with him."

"So you have the Intersect under control?"

The way he said that, like Chuck was some volatile piece of machinery and nothing more… "Director, he is a civilian that has been thrust into this. He is scared at the moment, he has friends and family, and to remove him...I believe it will cause him not to function. He can be an asset to us. He can help us."

"Then that is exactly what he has just become….your asset."

"Director—"

"It's that or a bunker, Agent Walker." He paused. She could tell it was coming. The dressing down she was about to get, she prepared herself. _Easy mission, in and out_ her ass. Graham had underestimated Chuck, and he hadn't properly prepared her for this. He wanted this cleaned up right now and she still wasn't sure why. Could Chuck access something, could he access her file, could he access Graham's even? How much did this guy know now? "Agent Walker….Sarah." Shit. He went the Sarah route. She let her eyes gaze back out at Chuck as he sat there watching the ocean. "Don't waste my best agent on this. Bring him in."

She ignored the shallow compliment.

"How important is this information he's seen?" That stopped him cold in his tracks. She could hear it in the pause.

"It is the most sensitive information in all of the intelligence communities."

Hook. Line. Sinker. "Then, _Director_ , it is probably for the best that your _best_ agent is protecting Chuck."

"The _Intersect_ will be more secure here, with us."

Careful, Sarah, careful... "Director, again, if we put him in a bunker he may not be able to recall the information. It may be useless if he's out of his element, away from his people. Think of all we can do if he's operating at his fullest potential." Had she gone too far? Had she gone far enough? "Think of the greater good." She heard a hitch in his breath and she smiled. She had him.

"Fine. You will guard the asset."

"Director, assets are—"

"AGENT. He is an asset."

No use fighting that battle right now. She had kept him out of a hole. His life wasn't going to be destroyed, but it wasn't going to be perfect...and she would keep him safe. She had to. "I understand."

The phone disconnected and she put it on the table. She was sitting on a picnic table, watching Chuck Bartowski and the moonlight that bounced off of the waves framing him on the beach. She stretched her bootless legs. She had pulled those off an hour ago. They did look good, but they were hell on her feet.

In the past week, she'd had to save an innocent child, and now an innocent man had US Intelligence secrets in his head. She was so done with it all. The lying, the backstabbing, the cold blooded murders. She had done so much, and for what? She looked at him, sitting there, slouched. God, he was such a good guy. She ran her hand through her hair, and wondered how this was going to work. She was sure Casey wasn't going anywhere. She was sure Graham was either lying to her or leaving out all sorts of important information, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why Bryce would involve an innocent civilian in _this._ She saw Chuck's shoulders slump again and she wanted to go to him, reassure him, but she couldn't. She needed to be careful here. She would protect him, just like she did Molly, except this time she'd be there with him every step of the way.

She couldn't imagine what was going through his mind as he sat out there by himself, staring out at the dark water. How inviting was that darkness for him right now, she wondered? After tonight, especially. Just how deep in the shit was he? Very. And she was similarly deep now, wasn't she? The darkness looked good to her, too, as she sat here watching him.

Going on hour...she glanced at her watch...two...she looked again after awhile...three hours. And he hadn't budged yet. She'd thought about going down and just sitting quietly beside him. But he deserved time on his own, time to digest, time to think. She'd give him as much of tonight as he needed. But come morning, things would have to return to normal—at least, it would have to appear normal to his family, his friends and coworkers.

The poor guy.

Her gut feeling about him had been right. He wasn't just innocent; Bryce had taken a good person, someone he'd apparently cared about at one point in time, and he'd essentially ruined his life. And for what? That phone call with Graham cemented for her that this stuff in Chuck's head was incredibly top secret, high-level security stuff. Stuff above her clearance, too, she assumed.

He'd have a target on his back now. And not just when it came to the bad people out there who'd kill to have those secrets in their possession. But she was afraid her superiors, Chuck's own government, would be gunning for him too. If not literally, then at least figuratively.

She could imagine terrifying guinea pig situations. How did his brain handle that much information? They'd want to know eventually.

Pushing that thought out of her head, trying to keep from getting lost down the rabbit hole of morbidity and darkness, she thought instead of how much he'd smiled and laughed throughout the night, and how much he'd made her smile and laugh. If she went back as far as she could remember, she wouldn't be able to recall laughing that much, or grinning so idiotically.

And to think she'd been duped into thinking this would be a three day mission, quick and painless. If she could help it, she'd stick by this Nerd Herd supervisor's side for as long as she needed to. Because he had no one in his corner, otherwise.

God, he must feel so lost. So confused.

And hurt.

She'd seen it in his eyes—that look of genuine interest when he gazed across the table at her, over his chile relleno and her carnitas taco plate. And then there'd been the awe and even a speck of confusion, as though he didn't understand what a girl like her was doing on a date with a guy like him. Like he'd accidentally stepped into some other man's life.

He had to understand now.

Because a girl like her hadn't gone out on a date with him because she wanted to. That much had to be clear to Chuck now. And she was positive that didn't feel good. Granted, she was sure she wasn't even close to the worst thing about tonight. He had the government dogging his every step. She was sure he knew she'd followed him, that she was up here watching, to make sure that heaviness in his shoulders and head didn't cause him to just walk into the ocean and not stop until it was too late to come back to the shore.

But that wasn't him. That wasn't Chuck Bartowski. She'd only needed to see the way he protected his sister a few hours ago, not ten minutes after he used a porn virus to defuse a bomb. Instead of being a complete basket case, which she never would've faulted a civilian for, especially after everything they put him through, the revelations, the whole almost dying thing, he charged towards two government agents. He looked right into both of their faces and laid down the rules, ensuring his sister's safety. He'd been right to do it, and he'd impressed her, as frustrating as it was that this guy didn't seem like he'd be as easy as she let Graham think he'd be.

The less fuss he caused, the easier it'd be to sell this whole set-up to the director of the CIA. And this guy was going to cause fuss. The second he told them they needed him, before marching off with his shoulders pulled back, determination in his gait, she knew Chuck would be trouble.

And she admired him for it. She liked it this way. God, she was crazy but she liked it this way.

This wasn't the type of man who gave up when things looked bleak, when life proved to be too hard. As slumped as his shoulders were currently, as he sat out in the sea breeze, moonlight playing on the water in front of him, this man was a survivor. And if for nothing else, he'd continue and fight and do what he could for his sister's protection, for all of the people he cared about.

She hated how selfish it was, but she couldn't help being almost upset that there was little chance of her being one of those people Chuck cared about. At least, not anymore. Not after he found out she was a spy who worked with the CIA and not merely a woman who was interested in him.

He probably hated her now. She'd lied to him, manipulated and played him. And now she'd be here, hovering around him, invading his life. There was no way for him to escape her. It was so much worse knowing he wasn't going to look at her with those golden-hued eyes of his the way he had a few hours ago when she teased him for dropping his fork on the floor.

He had every reason to hate her. She hated her _self_.

Would he hate her less if he knew she was the only reason he was sitting out on this beach in Malibu instead of in a jumpsuit in a bunker somewhere underneath Langley? Or maybe in another country altogether? The image of him being locked in handcuffs like some sort of criminal or prisoner and shoved into a van with bars on the window haunted her. He'd be terrified and alone, and she thought, after that show he'd given them outside of the hotel a few hours ago, the first thing he'd think of would be what they'd do with his sister, what would they tell her? Would she be okay? Because that was the kind of guy he was.

Sarah shook her head at herself and huffed. For now, she had managed to prevent that. And she'd do everything in her power to try to keep her head above water where she could potentially see what in the hell the CIA—and Graham in particular—were doing here. What was this thing Bryce sent Chuck? How did it work? How was Chuck able to even retain all of that information in his human brain? How could she keep him safe in the meantime while she tried to figure all of this out?

She didn't know, but she'd figure it out, damn it.

Sarah Walker, Langston Graham's wildcard enforcer… She could play along. She do this for a little while longer until they figured out how to free Chuck Bartowski's brain and get him his old life back. He could go back to his desk at the Nerd Herd, save little ballerinas, goof off with his strange bearded friend, and maybe find some normal girl, some non-CIA agent, to go on a date with.

And to think just five hours ago, she was sitting at a table with him, sipping her margarita, original lime at his brilliant suggestion, wondering how a guy who made the kind of genuinely funny, off-the-cuff jokes he'd been making could ever betray his country the way Bryce was. The way Bryce _had_. Bryce was dead now, and she had to keep reminding herself of that. His last act on this earth had been potentially ruining this guy who'd been his friend at one time's life. It was despicable. She was angry. She wanted to bring him back to life so that she could punch him. For lying to her, yes, but mostly because he'd chosen Chuck, out of everyone he could've sent that to. He'd chosen to wreck Chuck's life.

She couldn't help but think it was something of a lucky fluke, the way Chuck had stopped the bomb tonight. This guy wasn't an agent. He wasn't an analyst even. He had no idea about this life, what it was, the horrible things it _could be_. He'd used a porn virus he'd probably come across at work to save the lives of dozens of people, as well as her life, Casey's, his own. But she knew in spite of that quick thinking and act of heroism, this guy didn't belong in this situation. Could he help them? Probably. Would he help them? He had no choice. But this would wear on him fast. And if he slipped, showed resistance, Graham would be there, the NSA and their asshole assassin would be there, to sweep him up and throw him in a deep hole where he'd never see the sun again and it wasn't fair. He deserved better.

She'd thought she was done with the CIA before. Well...she was especially done now. And yet, at the same time, she'd never been so...not done. She couldn't be done now. She had to be the best agent the CIA had ever produced if she wanted to protect Chuck from Casey, from whoever handled Casey, from Graham and the CIA. On top of protecting him from outside forces. She would have to be the best agent she was capable of being, and she knew she was damn good. They weren't going to continue pulling the wool over her eyes. She'd stay ahead of this thing so she could keep Chuck alive and out of a bunker, home with his people.

Because if she'd found out anything about Chuck Bartowski tonight besides the fact that he laughed and smiled easily, that he had a thing for salsa after she saw him dump it all over his plate...she shook her head, getting herself back on track even as she felt herself smiling...If she'd found out anything about him, it was that he wouldn't survive without his people. He wouldn't make it for long away from his sister, his best friend, probably even the people at the Buy More. Maybe even Jenna at the bar he'd taken her to. He was a people person…

God, she couldn't let them do this to him. But first she'd need to find a way to get him on her side. She needed him to know she had his best interests at heart. He needed to trust her more than he'd ever trusted anyone. Because just as he needed an ally in her, she needed one in him. She needed him.

But she was afraid. Because she wasn't sure the extent to how much he'd need her. And after tonight, after those moments of real and genuine warmth she'd felt towards him, the little inklings of ponderings about what might happen if it had been a real date, just two regular people enjoying one another, she was afraid she might want to meet those needs in a way that wasn't conducive to keeping him safe. Or to her eventually leaving once she was sure he was out of danger, his brain free.

She had too much to juggle. She had taken too much on. This was all too much. And she had to get her head on straight. To think she'd thought this damn mission would be a walk in the park, her asset just a two day acquaintance, a potential hit if Graham required it… No, maybe not. Especially not now. They'd have to kill her first before she put a bullet in this man. She was absolutely certain of that.

She would have to make certain he knew it, too. He didn't have to trust Graham, the CIA, the NSA, or even Casey. He just had to trust her.

When his head drooped even lower, she felt an ache in her chest. She was so done after this. But until then, she would be every bit of the good agent she had to be. Not for Graham, not for the CIA, not even for the country… but for Chuck Bartowski. And then...when he was safe...she was out. For good.

"Don't worry, Chuck," she breathed quietly, as if the sea breeze might waft her voice across the cool sand and into his ear, warming him, reassuring him. "I've got you."

}o{

The beach was quiet...the waves crashing against the shore always calmed him. However tonight he didn't need to be calmed like he did most nights he was here. He placed his hand down, felt a small rock beside him, picked it up, and threw it into the ocean and realized he had just thrown something back into the ocean that may have taken decades to get where it was. He sighed.

He had thought when all the guns were pulled, they were here for him because of his past...not Bryce, but his past as Piranha. They weren't, and although he was worried, there was a look Sarah had given him that told him she would protect him. He should have known someone like her wasn't asking him out because she was interested in him. Which brought him to another problem… his actions today.

He wasn't a hero, but he couldn't watch people die. He chuckled to himself. That was true, but what drove him into action tonight, more than anything was her. He couldn't watch her die and do nothing. It could have been two random people and he would have done something, but with her there it was...different. It figured, the one person who FINALLY pulled him out of the Jill Funk (™ pending) was out of his league and only there because she _had_ to be. Because it was her job. But, he was in Sarah Walker's life, and he was pretty sure that was pretty special in it's own right.

The sun was rising, and he had thought about a lot of things, but the one he always came back to, was that he wanted to be in her life. He wanted to be a part of her life, and if the only way he could be was this way, then he would. He felt a peace come over him. He knew it wasn't the decision he made, but that she was near. He'd been feeling that anytime he was around her for a while. He just hadn't admitted it to himself. He was gonna be in Sarah Walker's life, and that was better than not being in it at all. Maybe. Hopefully. He had no idea what all of this would mean, still.

The small smile that had come over his face dimmed as he realized the depths of trouble he was in now. In spite of the sky lightening over the horizon, he felt like he was still drowning in the dark. He was confused and afraid, and he needed something solid, something real, to hold onto.

That was when that strange sense of peace got a bit stronger, and he heard shuffling behind him. He didn't look, because he knew it was her. And her legs clad in black pants appeared beside him. For some reason, her bare feet digging into the sand made him feel less alone in that moment. He didn't get why. They just did.

"How long you been here?" he asked when she stood there silently for a few seconds.

And then she slowly lowered herself to sit next to him, close. Closer than he'd expected. And she set her boots down beside her, letting them flop to the side, caked in sand. "All night."

He knew that. He hadn't looked behind him once but he'd known she was there. When he'd left the two agents alone after that determined, brave spiel he'd given them, he'd felt even more depleted. Empty threats. They all knew it. But he had to do something to make it known he wasn't letting his family, his people, get wrapped up in this, no matter what happened to him.

He'd known one of them would follow him.

For some reason, he felt it would be her.

She'd just let him be alone for most of the night, watching over him like a silent bodyguard or something. A sentinel in the Malibu darkness. He inwardly snorted at himself for that one.

But then she'd been here all night. Somehow she'd followed him. He hadn't seen her following him as he drove his Herder through the streets of LA, onto the multiple freeways that took him out towards the coastline, to his favorite beach. Not that he'd been looking for her. He hadn't cared so long as he got to one of the places that seemed to give him peace when he was struggling the most.

She'd tailed him here, in spite of not knowing where he was going, that this was one of his _places_. And that meant she could probably tail him anywhere. Everywhere. "There's nowhere I can run, is there?"

She paused for a moment. "Not from us."

That answer almost pissed him off. Not at her. She was just doing her job, wasn't she? Following orders. Just like she had when she'd picked him up at his Nerd Herd desk yesterday afternoon. No, he was upset at just...everything. He could feel change in the air, and not the good kind of change. It was bad change, the kind of change that meant his life and freedom were in danger. And that feeling of helplessness washed over him again and he wanted to hold onto something. Something stationary...normal.

He felt trapped. He was terrified. And then he was also just tired. Always so tired. Because of course this shit would happen to him. After everything else he'd dealt with. He couldn't just live his normal eleven dollars an hour retail existence in peace. Why not? He didn't hurt anybody. He didn't wish anyone harm, not even the people who'd hurt him the most in life. He just wanted to be left alone.

Screw everything.

And screw the way he could feel the heat of her gaze against the side of his face. She stared at him blatantly, as though trying to figure him out. It couldn't be all that hard, he thought a bit sourly, when she was a CIA agent, after all. It had been woefully easy for her to get him out on a date last night, hadn't it?

 _Of course it was easy. Look at her, you idiot._

"Talk to me, Chuck."

He just watched the waves straight ahead, but he couldn't help being a bit surprised. Was she angling to get inside his head? Figure out where he was? Was this more manipulation?

And then he thought immediately that he was being incredibly unfair. This wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault, either. And yet they were both stuck here, with this shitty situation, with each other. And because he was a sap, because he needed something to make him feel at least a little okay, he let himself feel a bit comforted that she was here. That he wasn't totally alone. At least not physically, not anymore. And then...she'd been there all night. He hadn't really been alone.

Chuck allowed that the woman sitting beside him was genuinely extending an ear to him, letting him talk things out, tell her what was on his mind. And he appreciated it. So he unloaded a bit, unable to keep the disbelief and frustration from his voice, hoping she knew it wasn't directed at her.

"Yesterday I was making eleven bucks an hour fixing computers." He finally turned his face towards her and that heat against his cheek was gone as she looked away, down at her lap. "Now I have one in my brain. And I can't figure out why Bryce did this. Why he chose me."

He took in her profile as the breeze picked up her blond hair and whipped it about her face. She'd had her hair up in those stick things, and he'd teased her about them right before things had gotten insane, when they were still walking down the sidewalk towards the bar, when things were still normal and he thought things were finally working in his favor.

What a stupid sap he'd been.

Sarah—Agent Sarah—whoever she was—pushed her hair back out of her face and gave her head a little shake, raising her eyebrows. "I'm sorry I don't have an answer for you, Chuck."

He sniffed in bitter amusement. "Thank you for at least being honest. I mean, he had—he had so many other people he could've done this to. Was he trying to screw up my life even more than it already is? I mean, wait for the guy to be at least somewhat stable, then implicate him in some terrible government sabotage bullshit scheme so that his life gets utterly fucked. Gah, this is so unfair."

"I know," she said quietly. "For what it's worth, and that might not be very much right now, I'm sorry, Chuck. I'm really sorry."

For which part, he wondered? The part she'd played last night? The faux date? Or because his life was, for all intents and purposes, over? Maybe she was just sorry for all of it.

"I'd say 'that's life', but this is so God damn out of control bizarre and not at all like anybody else's real life, so I can't even say that. I don't know _what_ to say." He threw his hands up a little in frustration. "He could've at least picked another agent, someone he could trust to actually know what to do with this stuff. Instead of a nobody who clocks out at work and goes home to eat kettle corn for dinner while playing Call of Duty."

"You eat kettle corn for dinner?" He sent her a look and she ducked her head with a bit of a smirk, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Sorry. I suppose I was trying to lighten the mood sort of."

Chuck snorted and shook his head. And the smile dimmed then, as he realized there were some heavy implications to all of this. He had some heinously secret shit stored in his brain somehow thanks to Bryce who was apparently not an accountant and also dead. This was all stuff that was life and death for someone, somewhere. Hugely important. And that meant they'd never let him go. He wouldn't get far if he tried.

And he thought to himself that he'd never know what was in store for him unless he asked. Whether this CIA agent told him the truth or not, he wouldn't be able to know.

"What are you gonna do with me?" He turned to look right at her, studying her face hard, looking for any tells, any cracks in that beautiful mask. Then again, part of him wondered if she had a mask on right at that moment. Because there was compassion in her face, and it felt real. It felt so earnest. He wanted to believe it _was_ earnest, so he did. He chose to believe. "What happens now?"

She swallowed, pausing for only a moment. "For now, you go back to your own life."

"W-Wha—D'you mean back to the Buy More?"

"Mhm."

"Like...everything is normal? Like none of this ever happened?"

"Something like that, yes." When he turned to look away from her, not saying anything else, his brain confused and hurting and fuzzy with exhaustion, she continued. "We'll protect you and you'll work with us."

He looked right at her, meeting her blue eyes that had a golden hue to them now in the light of the rising sun. He let himself actually think for a moment that he was going to be allowed to continue living his life, all of this disappearing, no agents or secrets, just his semi-deadbeat existence. He was a complete fool to think they'd ever let him off the hook like that.

He was going to have protection now. And he was going to _work with them_ , whatever the hell that meant. He was way too tired to ask what any of it meant. He was tired and mad. And sad and confused.

"We?" he asked anyway, almost as if to spite his own brain. "Like...as in you?"

"Me, yes." She waited for him to meet her eye again and there was something there that set him at ease as she smiled, just enough for him to know it was one. It wasn't even that she smiled as much as she seemed to almost soften. "I'll be here." And then she looked away, and something else was in her face, something she covered up quickly. But he saw it. He was sure he'd seen it. Unsureness, or something else that made her seem almost vulnerable for a moment. And that more than anything else she'd said or done in the last twelve hours set him so at ease. "And he's gonna be here, too. Casey."

And there went the whole ease thing. "What? He's gonna protect me? He hates my guts. He tried to shoot me so he could eat pancakes."

A quick, amused smile appeared on her face as she ducked her head and looked away. And she quashed it fast, twisting her hands in her lap a bit. He wondered if that was a habit she wasn't aware of and he felt more and more like this could maybe be...not as terrible. Still terrible. And terri _fying_. But maybe not as much as he'd feared.

"The fate of our country depends on him making sure nothing bad happens to you, Chuck. I don't know Casey _that_ well, but you better believe he thinks he's the biggest patriot that ever walked the face of this earth. He'll protect you no matter what he thinks about you. Those are his orders." She seemed like she was going to say something else, but then she shook her head a bit and shut her mouth, her lips forming a thin line.

"The fate of our country, huh? Depends on me staying alive? To quote someone we both know, that makes it better?"

She sniffed in amusement and shrugged a little. "Yeah. I mean, who else can say they've got two of the top intelligence officers in the country making sure nothing bad happens to them?"

"You make a good point. As terrifying as it is." Something occurred to him then and he looked right at her again, watching her closely. "My sister and my friends...are they in danger?"

The CIA agent looked away, blinking out at the water, nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip. That was answer enough, he thought to himself bitterly.

"Fine. Then answer me this," he said, letting her off the hook a bit. "What do I tell them about all of this?"

"Tell them nothing to keep them safe," she said immediately, meeting his gaze steadily. He raised his eyebrows a bit and looked away from her, frowning deeply. "I'm sorry," she said again. "It's for the best."

He shook his head and scoffed quietly. "On top of everything, I have to lie to the people I care about, too."

She bit her lip and shrugged. "It's less like lying and more like...keeping a secret." He gave her an incredibly flat look. "A very big secret."

"Don't. It's lying. I'm lying to them. But if you say that's what's gonna keep 'em safe, well, then...what choice do I have?" He shrugged in frustration, shaking his head.

She didn't do him the disservice of lying or giving him false hope, she wasn't blowing smoke up his ass, and he appreciated that so much. In just staying silent and looking at him with that quietly warm gaze of hers, she somehow made him feel better than any words she might use could.

"Are you okay?" she asked finally. He lowered his chin and made a face at her, making her smile and look away again, shaking her head a bit. "I know this is...a whole lot. And you probably aren't okay. At the moment. But I still think it's a fair enough question for me to ask right now."

He smirked at her. "I'm not. I'm not okay. But I'll have to get there, won't I? I don't have a choice in that, either. If I'm going back to my life, back to the Buy More, living with my sister and her boyfriend...They can't know anything. And I'm going to have to at least learn to pretend I'm okay."

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah." He huffed. "Speaking of...They probably thought I'd be home hours ago. I'm not really known for scoring like this on first dates," he said, pointing to the both of them. And then he realized how bad that sounded belatedly. "S—I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean, I did, but that wasn't...I shouldn't have. Sorry."

Her eyes had widened a bit, but she chuckled good-naturedly, squirming a little awkwardly. "It's okay, Chuck."

"I mean, that wasn't—it hadn't been my...I mean before I found out you were a CIA agent sent to find out if Bryce was—I mean, if I was working with Bryce. I wasn't looking to...not on the first date. Unless that was...No, nope. Not gonna say that. I'm—I'm really tired. I'm exhausted. I think—Does that thing that's in my head do something to my brain cells? I feel like my dendrites are probably damaged from that weird thing that happened with the, uh, the guy. And the bomb."

Her hand landed on his arm. "Do you want me to take you home? I-I mean, I can drive. I'll drop you off at home."

She'd cut him off, saving him from his own damn mouth. He felt grateful. And he shook his head. "No. Nah, I'll drive. I'm okay to drive. I can...take you somewhere I guess."

"Oh. That's nice of you but I've got a car."

"Oh." He glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. That makes sense. How would you have found me without a car?"

She smiled quietly at him and then she diverted her gaze. "Hey, I'm gonna need you to do one more thing for me."

He sighed and nodded a bit. "Yeah?"

He felt her gaze land on him again, and it felt important almost, so he swept his brown eyes over to meet her blue ones.

"Trust me, Chuck."

He gave her a bit of a crooked smile, taking her in, thinking about how much he'd liked her the night before, how adamant she was that she wasn't funny, even as she made him laugh. How she'd finished her margarita and had made a show of deciding whether she wanted another one or not. And that smile of hers that was flirtatious sometimes and other times just so warm and endearing and beautiful.

Chuck wasn't sure if any of that had been real. In fact, he thought most of it hadn't been. Or maybe he just didn't know anything at all and he was a complete mess. But the way she was looking at him right in that moment, with no one else around but them made him think that he could stand to trust somebody maybe.

She walked all the way out here to talk to him when she didn't have to. He imagined anyone else, that jerk guy Casey for instance, the guy who was apparently going to be a bodyguard or something, would've just sat up there and waited until he finally got up and made to leave the beach.

But Sarah didn't do that. She was here, sitting next to him, reassuring him.

And he must've held her gaze for a little long, because she looked down, turning her head forward, and she twisted her lips to the side a bit, pushing her hair behind her ear again. When he looked down into his lap, he felt her bump him with her shoulder.

And he grinned, feeling her peek around at his face, seeing her smile in his peripheral. He could trust her, maybe. He felt like he needed to. He needed something to steady him. Some _one_. And in spite of the hurt he'd felt at realizing she wasn't on a date with him because she was interested in him, he wondered if that wasn't just his ego. Everything else was more important than that. He had to find a way to be okay. And Sarah—Well, she just might be the way.

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 **A/N:** That's that! We'll be back later with more! Please review! Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** DC here. I've read all the reviews, so first off, thank you all! Secondly...it does feel a bit stalkerish to do so...Anyway, it took 6 chapters to get through the pilot. Each ep won't be that way. Some eps won't exist in our world. Some brand new ones will. Early, you'll see small changes. Those lead to big changes. We have three seasons planned out. We figure when we finish season one we'll work on four. Sounds like a plan. Do you know how much fun it is to collaborate with Steampunk? It's awesome. And by the way, there's a spot coming that was originally fluffier, and I pulled it back, not her. Because we have a plan. It's a good plan….we think. We're fairly sure.

 **Disclaimer:** Neither of us own Chuck or profit off of it monetarily...it does bring joy to our hearts however.

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"Chuck!"

He sighed heavily as he stared at the motherboard he held in his hands, not even looking up at the intruder making their way into his cage. "What?" he droned.

"Thank God I found you, okay?" Lester slithered up to the desk he sat at. "I can't do this anymore. I cannot be out there alone with that...scary and terrifying man. I swear, he looks like the type of person who sharpens his teeth before he goes to bed at night."

"What the hell are you talking about, Lester?" Chuck asked, finally looking up at his coworker. "I have, like, thirteen of these damn things to fix. That's why I'm back _here_ doing it instead of out _there_. I've got a lot of work to do."

"Well, Charles, so do I. But I can't do any work while I'm being literally stalked around the store by that tank of a man Big Mike hired." He slammed his fist down on Chuck's desk. "I've _had it_." All Chuck had to do was raise an eyebrow and slowly stand to his full height, towering over the much smaller man, and Lester nearly whimpered, his chin quivering as he looked up at him. "I mean, I could just deal with it. I could deal, that's fine. I'm a big boy, right? ...Right?"

Chuck sighed tiredly. "Lester. Why don't you just tell him to stop following you around?"

"Because you're taller than me. Logic, Charles."

"You want _me_ to do it?" He laughed in Lester's face, even leaning down a little. "Uh, no. Nuh uh."

"Why noooottttt?" the shorter man whined as Chuck plopped back down into his chair. "You're my supervisor. You're here to protect me."

"No. I'm here to tell you what to do. Like right now: Get out of my space."

"Char—"

"Bartowski!" He looked up to see Casey walk into the back, approaching the cage. "You see that little pipsqueak Le—Oh. There you are, Lester." A predatory look came over his face and Chuck was almost afraid for the other man's life.

"Lester? Who's he? I'm just a figment of your imagination." He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers as both Chuck and Casey looked at him dryly.

"Can we do...whatever this is…" Chuck groused, gesturing between them, "elsewhere? So that I can fix these things before I'm eighty years old?"

"You're supposed to be a supervisor, ain't ya?" Casey growled at him. "Can you supervise so these idiotsticks stop messing with my sales?"

Chuck groaned, plopped back into his chair, then looked up at the ceiling, making a pitiful sound, and finally letting his head fall to the desk. "Why meeee?"

"I didn't do anything!" Lester said.

"You asked my customer what his _musk_ is, you freakin'...freak," Casey said through his teeth. "He left before I could sell him the bullet blender. That would've been commission."

"How is that a strange question?" Lester asked, looking between them with legitimate curiosity.

Chuck lifted his head and furrowed his brow at Lester. Was he more confused or disgusted? He didn't really know. "Seriously? That—"

"Bertha to video games. Bertha to video games…" Morgan's voice came over the store's intercom and they all froze.

"Wait a second…" Casey snapped his fingers. "That's the shoplifter announcement. Bertha, right?"

"C-Casey, remember during training? I said BERTHA means you just go stand in the area and ask customers if they need help finding anything—Casey? Casey. Casey..."

That predatory look was on his face again though as he started for the door that led out onto the floor of the Buy More.

"Casey? Cas—Casey. Oh, boy." Chuck scrambled up from his chair and followed after him, pushing Lester out of his way.

"That shoplifter is about to be murdered, methinks," Lester chirped unhelpfully, not budging.

Casey picked up the pace, walking like a man on a mission. And maybe the NSA shouldn't have sent some kind of crazy-ass killing machine to protect him and then make him work _retail_ , for God's sake.

"Hey! Hey, Casey! Don't...don't do it. Casey…" He hurried his own step and tried to grab the burly man's arm, but he had his hand shrugged off easily. "Oh, God…"

"I repeat," Morgan said over the intercom. "Bertha to video games...like, the XBox region...or thereabouts…"

Chuck rolled his eyes as he turned the corner, still hurrying after Casey, and saw Morgan holding the intercom in his hand, crouched behind a cardboard promotion stand-up and peeking around it to watch as Doug, their usual shoplifting culprit, picked up one of the games and looked down at it in a very obvious _I'm going to steal you_ sort of way.

"You sonofabitch," Casey roared, and the poor kid spun on his heels to look at him. He literally screamed, then took off in the other direction. "Hey! Get back here, ya little shit!"

"Casey!" Chuck yelled as the NSA agent tore after the kid. "Oh God!"

Chuck had no choice but to race after both of them. What would he do if he caught up to them? He didn't know. He'd tackle that when he got to it.

"Hey! The hell's he doin'?" Morgan called, and Chuck heard his friend take off after him, hot on his heels.

Chuck saw the kid disappear out of the store then, and Casey wasn't far behind him, nearly knocking an elderly man walking inside onto his ass.

"I'm so sorry!" Chuck yelled as he dashed through the door, nearly crushed by it. He thought he heard the unfortunate sound of Morgan smacking into the glass before it reopened for him, but he just kept running. He couldn't let the guy who was supposed to be protecting him murder a kid for stealing a stupid video game. Nobody's life was worth any single one of the products the Buy More sold. "Casey! Stop!"

As he sprinted into another row in the parking lot, he belatedly saw the car that was driving into his path, and he felt the bumper slam into his thigh. He flew up onto the hood, rolled off of it, nearly fell flat on his face, but managed to get back to his feet in record time. "Gah! Sor—!" was all he managed to get out as he kept running. Hopefully that person didn't have nightmares over that moment. _Woops._

Someone pushed their Large Mart cart out from behind their SUV and he valiantly leapt into the air, clearing the cart altogether, thanking the gods of height for his six foot four frame as he continued to stagger after the agent.

"Casey!"

The agent jumped up onto the hood of a car, his boots making dents in it as he leapt onto another car's hood and did the same, then another, then another, damaging at least four cars in the meantime. Totally unnecessary. "No, no! No! Casey!"

He finally dove off of one of the cars and tackled the shoplifter hard, hard enough that the kid would probably see stars until he was twenty.

When he straddled him, spun him onto his back and reared his fist, Chuck just barely got there in time to grab his wrist in both hands. "Casey! No, no, no, no, no! Dear God! It's just a video game, okay? Lives are not in danger! And the country is still safe."

Casey whipped his wrist out of his grip hard enough that Chuck nearly staggered backwards, just barely catching himself, still unable to catch his breath.

Morgan chose that moment to finally catch up to them. "Wow…." he panted. "Guy's been here for like twenty-four hours and he takes the job way more seriously than me…"

"That's because _HE'S CRAZY_ ," Chuck exclaimed, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," the agent growled as he hoisted the shoplifter to his feet and started walking him back towards the store. That kid was lucky to be alive, Chuck thought to himself.

"Oh, hey, Doooug," Morgan drawled as he followed after Casey. "Nice to see ya again, huh? Not so tough now, are ya?" He continued taunting the kid as they went back to the Buy More and Chuck just stood there, gaping, gasping for breath still, wondering how in the hell this was his life.

And then he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and the sentiment increased tenfold.

Because she turned right then and looked at him across the parking lot, her hair in pigtails on either side of her head and… "What?" he breathed out, standing to his full height and slowly lifting his hand to wave. Was she...working at the Wienerlicious? Wait, since when was there a Wienerlicious right there? And what in the hell was she wearing? Why did she have to wear that? What…?

She grinned, so bright and vibrant, and for a moment, he thought he might be able to run another mile he was filled with so much...something. And then she lifted the empty food tray and soda cup, wiggling her fingers at him around it. God, that was so cute. Why was she so—?

Wait, he had questions. A lot of them.

He should go ask her them. Yep.

Smoothing his hands down his pants, aware that he was sweating from the impromptu sprint, and nearly getting hit by a car… he moved across the parking lot, turning to look back towards the Buy More. He wouldn't be that missed, right? It'd be fine…

He hurried over to the Wienerlicious as Sarah carefully opened the door and slipped inside. As he got inside, he saw her standing behind the counter, her back to him, and the smell of the place was… Well, burnt corndog. Very badly burnt corndog. And maybe gas? He wondered if it was safe for either of them to even be in this building…

"Sarah…" he gasped out as he closed the distance. "What—What are you doing here?"

She spun on her heel, an overwhelmed look on her face. He'd laugh at the sight of her with a dishtowel in one hand and tongs in the other, smoke billowing up behind her, if he wasn't sure there was a chance she'd murder him for it. "I...uh, work here now, Chuck," she said above the frighteningly loud sizzling sound coming from the grill and the deep fryer.

"At the...Wienerlicious." He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

"Yes. You got a problem with that?" she snapped, lifting the basket out of the deep frier. "God _damn it_! Stupid fff—damn! God!" She kicked a trash can out from under the counter and picked the black, utterly dead corndogs from the basket, dropping them in the garbage. "I burned another stupid batch!"

Chuck pulled his lips back between his teeth and widened his eyes, watching the scene. "You, um...maybe…" Nope. The look she gave him told him to shut up real fast, so he did. "Um, can I ask why? Why you're working here, I mean."

"Surveillance," she said. "This way I can monitor the Buy More from here while you work."

"Oh. Cool. Well, Casey is currently working _at_ the Buy More. Breathing down my neck practically," he groused through gritted teeth. "They really wanna have the both of you here, huh?"

She got a bit of a look on her face and then nodded. "Yeah. Just in case he, uh, needs back-up."

"Oh. Well, just FYI, he nearly put his fist through a shoplifter's head and the kid probably has a really good case for a lawsuit now, so is the, uh, government gonna cover the legal bills, 'caaaause…"

She smirked and shook her head. "Sounds like something he'd do."

"Yeah, um...so you're here. Casey's, um… Well, I guess what I mean to ask is, uh, is there a plan here? There's gotta be a plan here. Right? Because you making gourmet wieners isn't exactly the reason why you joined the CIA..." She got a look on her face and he spun to look to make sure nobody else was in the store. Since he realized he hadn't exactly...checked before. He was really good at this whole secret government shindig thing apparently. This felt like a great start. When he saw he was clear, he turned back to see an amused look on her face. "Casey isn't a natural born appliance salesman. And the whole, kinda, government secrets locked in my brain thing? That's, uh, I'm sure not really a boon for national security, so I'm hoping—I'm hoping that you'll tell me there's a plan?" He narrowed his eyes at her again, running his hands down his shirt to dry them. He was losing his footing a bit with all of this. Once again.

She gave him a closed mouth smile and leaned her palms on the counter-top. "There is a plan. We have a briefing in the Buy More in about…" She checked her watch. "Ten minutes."

"In-In the Buy More?" He raised his eyebrows. "There are, like, close to eighty people in there at the moment. Are we gonna do this in...front of them? My coworkers really aren't the brightest crayons in the box, Sarah, but I think they'll probably be a little freaked out if, like, the guns come out." He made his fingers into guns and made _pew pew pew_ sounds.

She snorted and shook her head, wiping her hands on a towel and turning everything off. "We aren't taking guns out. It's just a briefing."

"Oh, like where heads pop up on screens and tell you the message will self-destruct in twenty seconds?"

She gave him a look. "Chuck, what is it exactly you think intelligence agencies do?"

"I dunno. I only have fiction to go off of. But where is this meeting supposed to happen? This just seems like a bad idea. Buy More employees are incredibly nosy. And curious. Like puppies. Horrible, awful puppies who sometimes harass our customers." He winced and she giggled a bit.

"Well, don't worry. Casey is taking care of it, apparently."

"Oh, the guy who nearly murdered a sixteen year old for stealing a video game?" He raised his eyebrows expressively at her. "I feel very reassured."

"Just get back over there before your boss busts you," she said, biting her cheek and rolling her eyes.

"Wanna come with?"

"Uh, in a sec. If I leave on a break, I have to tell Scooter so he can come cover the counter. You go ahead." She smiled.

"Kay." He snapped his fingers and smiled back, leaving the Wienerlicious behind, not catching the way her eyes followed him all the way out. He didn't see her grab her cell phone from her apron pocket once the door shut behind him.

A few minutes later, Chuck was ushered into the theater room by Casey. Sarah was already inside, waiting for them. "How'd you get here so fast?" he asked her. But before she could answer, Casey went to the blinds and shut them melodramatically. "Kay, well...that's kinda...weird."

"You want the whole store of idiots seein' the director of the CIA on the TV screen, moron?" Casey asked.

"Wow, okay. That seems...harsh."

"Just connect it, Casey."

He growled in annoyance at Sarah's brisk order and crossed to the TV, turning it on. Chuck had plopped down on the couch in the meantime, kicking his feet up and sinking a bit lower against the cushions. But as the two very official-looking figures showed up on the screen, he felt Casey's hand twist in his shirt and yank him to his feet.

"Have some damn respect," he snapped.

Chuck stood at attention, straightening his shirt, giving Casey a glare, before turning back to the small, redheaded woman and the much taller man leaning down behind the chair she sat in to stay in the picture.

"This is Bartowski, then, is it?" the woman asked.

"Uh. Hi. Chuck. You can...call me Chuck. Or whatever. Whatever you want. I guess."

Sarah's hand was on his arm then as she stood ramrod straight beside him, some sort of a hard mask over her features, he noticed. "Chuck, this is Director Graham, director of the CIA. And General Beckman of the NSA."

"I—Wow. Er…" He cleared his throat and stood a bit straighter, pulling his shoulders back. "Honored to, uh, meet ya."

"Our orders?" Casey interrupted, obviously impatient with the proceedings.

That earned him a bit of a sideways look from the general and Chuck decided then and there that he never wanted to be on her bad side. Ever. It didn't seem to bother Casey any, though. This guy was batshit crazy.

"For now, you stay as is," Director Graham said. "Casey, you continue working your shifts here at the Buy More. Agent Walker, you work at the hot dog restaurant." Chuck mused for a moment about whether the CIA director was actively avoiding using the word 'Wienerlicious' because it was stupid and ridiculous. "And you, Chuck. You do everything your handler tells you to do."

"H-Handler?" he turned to look at Casey first, then at Sarah.

He was ignored.

"When we have something we need you to look at, Chuck, Casey and Agent Walker will walk you through it," the general said.

"L-Look at? Look at what?"

He was ignored again.

"One more thing," Director Graham said, leaning in closer to the camera. "We need one of you to stick close to the asset when he isn't here at work. Agent Walker? You've already gone on a date with him—it's established with his family. His friends. You'll pose as the asset's girlfriend."

Chuck felt the blood leave his face. "Say what now?"

Still, he was ignored.

"Chuck's girlfriend?" Sarah asked, stepping forward a bit. "Director, Sir, is that...necessary for the operation?"

"I—I don't—I don't think so." He turned to look at her and wrinkled his nose. "I think we're...good, just...not doing that."

"Agent Walker, can you think of any other reason why you would be at the asset's home at night?"

"At my what? Huh?" Chuck gave Sarah a pleading look and she studiously kept her blue eyes fastened on the TV screen.

"Director...This really doesn't seem like a necessary—"

"Agent Walker," General Beckman cut in, her voice clipped. Sarah shut up real quick. "We'll find a way to get Major Casey an apartment near the apartment of Devon Woodcomb and Ellie Bartowski—"

"I—I live there, too. I pay rent." Chuck turned to assure Sarah. "I pay rent. Just...so you know. Split three ways."

She finally looked at him, then diverted her eyes and turned back to the TV.

"—but we can't rely on video surveillance all the time," the general continued. "There's a semblance of privacy we'd like to afford Chuck and his sister."

Chuck widened his eyes in surprise. "Surveillance? Video surveillance? That seems like a lot."

"Yes, we agree," the general explained in a patient tone, as though she was speaking to a child. "Which is why, instead, we will be installing Agent Walker as your girlfriend."

"Installing? Why are you making her sound like a dishwasher?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

He was ignored again, though he heard a soft choking sound from the CIA agent next to him. But when he looked at her, she was just as serious and professional as always. "Director… General… What exactly is the point of this?" she asked.

"Someone needs to protect him outside of work, when he isn't where Major Casey can see him throughout the day." Director Graham cleared his throat. "Agent Walker, this is an order. To the asset's family, friends, and coworkers, you will be his girlfriend. There is no other way to get Casey in that apartment…"

"Yeah, I'm not the cuddling type," the NSA agent snarked.

Chuck sent him a grossed out look. And he felt a little faint. Because the implication of that, and the rest of this, was clear. They'd have to be girlfriend and boyfriend, which meant...couch cuddles, hand holding...oh God, this couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

Sarah sighed quietly beside him. "Yessir. Understood."

"Good."

Chuck wondered if he should be a little offended by the fact that Sarah had argued against being his fake girlfriend (would it really be _that_ terrible?), but he immediately dismissed that immature thought. She shouldn't be having to do this. And neither should he. It was nonsense. Just another thing for him to lie to Ellie about, and Morgan.

And he decided that Sarah had been the one who'd gotten the order, not him, so he pulled his shoulders back a bit and looked the general and director dead in their faces. Sort of. Through a TV screen, but dead in their faces.

"I guess what I'm curious about, though, is how this is at all believable. A girl—woman— _woman_ like Sar—er, Agent Walker. And a guy like me. I work in a Buy More."

"She works at the Wienerlicious, Bartowski," Casey said, giving him a look like he was the stupidest person he'd ever met in his life.

"I mean...yes, okay? Yes, true. But…" He looked around, at Sarah first, then at the intelligence bosses, then at Casey, and back at Sarah again. "Seriously? Am I the only one who is seeing this? Why would…?" He looked at Graham and Beckman, his eyes pleading with them. Neither of them registered anything. It was obvious they were used to giving orders and never having them questioned. They thought this was a good idea. Why, he had no idea. "You know what? Forget it. It's useless. Okay. She's my girlfriend." He huffed, his shoulders sagging.

This was a terrible cover, though. It was the worst cover. Everyone would see right through it. Everyone. He just knew it.

"Are you finished?" General Beckman asked.

"Yup."

"Good. We'll contact you when we have more. Chuck? You can go back to work. We'd like to speak with our agents." And the way she turned her gaze down to the papers on her desk was a clear indication that he'd lost her attention completely and he supposed he had nothing else to say because apparently she wouldn't be listening to him anyway.

"Right. Well. Good meeting, everyone." He was angry as he squeezed past a smirking Casey to go towards the door of the theater room. "Briefing. Sorry. Briefing." He sent the entire room a sarcastic look, then bowed out, shutting the door a bit harder than was maybe necessary.

He'd just been treated like an inanimate object. Or a dog. Or something else that had no agency or voice of its own. And what was with the CIA guy calling him an asset? "My name is _Chuck_ ," he growled.

Then he looked to the side and saw that Fernando was standing there, eyes wide behind his glasses. "I know," he said with a shrug.

"I hate my life, Fernando."

As he walked away, a dark cloud over his head, he heard Fernando say, "I know that, too."

}o{

She stayed stoic during the next part of the briefing. Beckman and Graham went on and on about Dr. Zarnow and how maybe he could fix this nightmare. It was a nightmare. She was thinking about finger pistols and dishwashers. She had laughed during a briefing... Had she ever done that before?

This was an absolute nightmare. She had to be Chuck Bartowski's cover girlfriend. A part of her that she didn't like to recognize existed was losing its mind, and the rest of her was thinking about how much of a problem this was going to be.

In one date, over one night, Chuck Bartowski had gotten to her. What was going to happen if this didn't work and they couldn't get the Intersect out? What was going to happen if this went on for months or, God forbid, longer?

Not that he wasn't pleasant to be around. No, she _enjoyed_ being around him and that was the problem. She enjoyed it too much. She fought shaking her head in the middle of the briefing because Chuck was right. Anyone looking at this from the outside wouldn't believe them as a couple. Chuck recognized it, just as anyone else might, but honestly, she was a little floored by just how wrecked his self-esteem was. She knew how attractive she was, and how much of a mismatch they might seem to others because of it. But nobody knew who she really was, or what she'd done. Nobody knew what she was capable of, least of all, Chuck. He couldn't know that he deserved so much better than a stone cold killer. And she couldn't tell him. He deserved so much better than this.

He was going to have to give up his privacy because of the Intersect, but now...this? This was going to be terrible. He couldn't tell his friends or family. She had already resigned herself to the fact she was going to have to be his sounding board, the person he had to talk to work through things, because he was a talker. But now, the two of them, on dates, cuddling on the couch… Why'd her mind jump straight to that? She mentally shook her head. She was still in her thoughts as the meeting ended. She started to leave when he spoke.

"Walker, why are you doing this? You could be out of here tonight if we just put him in a bunker."

She turned and faced him. She knew what John Casey's answer to everything was, and she wasn't about to let him do what John Casey did best to Chuck. But maybe if he realized what Chuck could be… "We have a chance to work on real actionable intel and you want to throw him in a bunker? You realize that the best way to protect him is go on the offensive, which means gunplay."

Casey grunted, intrigued. "You have Secret Service training." It wasn't a question but she nodded. "You're in charge of the kid when we're both around. That way I can scratch my itchy trigger finger. Geek will probably piss his pants first time I shoot."

"Nerd," she fired back. She blinked and saw Casey's look. She calmed her tone. "Nerd," she said softer. "They prefer being called nerds. Little bit of honey keeps them calm." Casey nodded. "Now, I have a Wienerlicious to run." She turned and headed out the door.

"Does he know that's the only Weiner you're interested in?" She stiffened. It wasn't worth the retort. "The cover will crack him."

"He'll be okay," and with that walked out of the theater room. She walked past the desk, and saw Chuck. She was his cover girlfriend, so she should probably act like a cover girlfriend…

She gave him a slight wink and the smile on his face made something bubble up inside of her.

She pushed it down and turned on her heel, facing him and forcing a bit of a shy look onto her face. She could feel other eyes besides his on her—his coworkers, most likely—which she supposed sold this whole thing a bit more.

"Hey, um...I was, uh, wondering if you might be free tonight," she said, shrugging cutely. Chuck's brows furrowed, and then he turned to look first one way, then whipped his head around to look the other way, before he looked back at her and poked himself in the chest with his finger. "Yes, you," she giggled. "Who else would I be asking out on a date?"

"Oh. Nobody." And then he caught up to what she was doing and she saw his eyes dim just slightly. "Oh, right. Right, right." The cover. He'd figured it out. "Yeah, I'm free. Totally."

"Can I pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds perfect." He grinned. It was a very convincing grin, a bit dreamy, and she wasn't sure if it was convincing because it was real or if he was just that good of an actor. She was...confused. And she needed to stop being confused.

"Okay...Well, um…" She cleared her throat. "See ya then."

"Yooou will," he drawled, and they smiled at each other again before she walked away from him. She gave one last flirtatious glance over her shoulder as she moved towards the exit, and she felt that strange leaping sensation in her chest again when he bit his lip in response.

Damn it, this was going to be bad.

}o{

"Get your head out of the sky, Numbnuts." Chuck turned around and saw Casey. "You do know she's lethal, right?"

"What are you talking about? She kept you from killing me."

Casey grunted a laugh. "Why don't you ask her why they call her the Ice Queen?"

He turned and walked away, missing the odd face that Chuck made as he left.

The flash began suddenly. In it he saw random images of inocuous images, but two images stuck in his mind: One of Sarah Walker in surveillance footage, holding a gun...and the second was of her again, this time lifting a gun to point it right at the camera. The ring on her finger was clear as she fired a bullet taking out the camera. The flash ended and Chuck stood there, blinking. Morgan clapped him on the back, scaring him.

"Saw your girl earlier. You got another date?" Chuck turned toward his grinning friend and nodded. Morgan looked around. "Need me to get you some protection?"

Chuck let out a nervous laugh. Morgan had no idea.

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 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Hi. You're all great. We don't have a lot to say today, but we hope you enjoy what we've written. Thanks for your reviews.

 **Disclaimer:** Neither of us own Chuck or profit off of it monetarily...it does bring joy to our hearts however.

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He waved over his shoulder at his sister as she walked into the apartment, keeping his eyes on the latest Call of Duty map, looking for the asshole bush wookie who kept taking his teammates out, and he felt his sister kiss the top of his head and ruffle his curls.

"Hey, how was the grocery store?"

"A grocery store," she said drily, snorting.

"Touché." He chuckled.

"I picked up some pork chops for dinner tonight, and some applesauce, but I'm too lazy to do this veggie dish Devon picked out to go with it, so we're just doing asparagus. What do you think?" she asked, and he heard her set the grocery bag down on the counter in the kitchen.

"Oh. Um…" He left his game, then turned it off, setting his controller on the console and moving towards the kitchen.

She was eyeing him funny. "What?" she asked dubiously, her hand halfway inside of her reusable bag.

Chuck scratched the back of his head. "If we do dinner tonight, can it be earlier? Like on the early side?"

"Sure. Six okay? Devon's home around six-thirty and he can just eat then."

"Perfect. Yeah. Thanks."

"Why?" Ellie asked, tilting her head. "Please don't tell me we're pushing dinner up so that you and Morgan can do one of your all night gaming sessions. Please."

"No, no," he laughed, moving to help her take things out of the bag and put them away. "Sarah's picking me up at eight. You know, for, like...a date so…"

Ellie stopped and spun around to face him so fast that he nearly staggered straight inside of the refrigerator he'd opened to put the asparagus away. Her eyes were wide as she closed the distance, grabbing his arm. "Sarah? Like the girl you went on a date with the other night?"

"Uh. Yeah. Same one."

"Oh my God, Chuck."

"The intensity that's going on here right now might be a little much, El. I'll be honest."

"Sorry. Sorry, sorry." She dialed it back and cleared her throat, smoothing a hand down her hair and letting him go. "I just... A second date. That's pretty...great, Chuck. I mean, that you liked her enough after the first date to ask her on a second one."

"Oh, she asked me." He shut the fridge and just stood there, giving her a wan smile as she gaped.

"I don't know anything about her, but I already like her. She has good taste."

"Dear God, please don't."

She giggled. "I'm just saying. And, um, she's asking _you_ out? That means she liiiikes yooou."

"Are you...teasing me right now? Like...middle school status?"

"Oh hell yes I am. I never get to do this, Chuck. So you're letting it happen. You have no choice."

He laughed then and he heard a voice float down the hallway. "Hey, man! Thanks for leaving my door unlocked. 'Cause it was locked a few nights ago when I came by to HALO and—Oh, shit. Ellie's here. I mean, oh good! Ellie's here! Hi. Hello." Morgan leaned his hand on the doorframe and posed a bit, grinning. "How was your day? You go grocery shopping? That's great. What's for dinner?"

"I don't know, Morgan. Why don't you ask your mom?"

He made a face and lowered his arm back to his side. "That's fair. Fair."

"I was just telling Ellie I've got a date tonight, Morgs. So we can't hang out. Sorry." Chuck shrugged as Morgan gaped at him just as his sister had a few moments earlier. "Whaaat? Why are you guys so surprised? That's not great for my pride, you know."

"It's not surprise, it's happiness," Ellie said. "Happiness that there's a girl who recognizes your great attributes."

"Yeah, _finally_."

Chuck huffed and walked past Morgan, heading down the hallway towards his bedroom. He was trying to remove himself from the situation, and instead he heard them both following him, chattering, Ellie telling Morgan to get lost, get out of her face, et cetera.

He figured since they were both apparently not going to leave him alone, he could at least get their opinion on an outfit. Well...his sister's opinion, at least. Of course, Morgan immediately turned on HALO and began playing, so he was out of the conversation completely.

"Hey sis, what do you think of this shirt?" he asked, grabbing a blue striped button-up and holding it against his torso, eyeing himself in the mirror. She reached around him and grabbed a handful of hangers with other button-ups right out of his closet, starting to go through them one by one, holding them up and squinting between him and the shirt.

"Chuck, do you remember when you went on that blind date with Caroline? That OR nurse I introduced you to."

"Um, I guess."

"You nearly went on that date in your Nerd Herd uniform, pocket protector and all."

"That shirt is cut really well. It fits my shoulders nicely, okay?"

"Chuck." She gave him a flat look. Then she folded her hands under her chin. "Loooook. You're picking out clothes and asking me for my opinion. For a second date. This is so cute."

"You're really killin' it, here, sis."

"This is very exciting!"

"It's not that big a deal," he groused, deciding he liked this shirt he was still holding. It was blue. Did Sarah like blue, he wondered? Her eyes were blue. Nearly the same color as this shirt, but so much nicer. And then he had to remind himself that for as much as this was a date, as much as she'd asked him out on said date, the U.S. government had practically ordered them both to do this. It wasn't real. None of it was. And it didn't matter whether she liked his shirt or not, because either way they'd still have to pretend to be dating afterwards. And yet, he still hoped she'd like the shirt. Damn it.

"Yes, it is," Morgan interrupted. "She is _hot_." Chuck rolled his eyes. "Jeepers. I'd go with the first shirt, too; it goes better with your skin tone," he added quickly.

"Oh, yeah?" He turned to face Morgan, a thoughtful look on his face. But then he saw the gobsmacked look on Ellie's face and he thought maybe he was in trouble for...something.

"Wait a minute! Morgan has met her and I haven't?!"

"Well…"

"Yeah…" Morgan gave a bit of a condescending sigh. "He confides in me, Ellie. Ya know? He tells me his deepest, darkest secrets…" Chuck gave him a dubious look for that one. "Which...you could, too...by the way." Morgan paused the game and looked up at her with that pining look of his he'd worn so many times before. Since they were kids, practically.

"Here's one: I loathe you," Ellie said without missing a beat.

"That's not a secret," Chuck said. Morgan pouted a little bit. "And anyway, El, Morgan met her because he was there when she came up to the desk. Don't let him make it sound like he's so special."

"Hey! I'm special. And oh God yes, I was there. It was like the clouds parted and this...angel in a leather jacket just...glided up...glided? Is it glided?" he muttered. "Gloud?"

"Anyway," Chuck interjected, giving Morgan a _shut up_ look. "Seriously, it's just...it's a date. Everyone needs to calm down. See this? This face?" He pointed to his face. "I'm calm." He most definitely wasn't calm, though. About any of this. And if it was a fake date, shouldn't he be calm? Technically, he could be the worst, spill a drink on himself, trip and fall face first into the pavement, and she'd still be stuck with him. He shouldn't be freaking out about this at all.

"Well, I need to meet this girl," Ellie said, shoving his shirts back into his hands. Whoa. Whoa...what?

"Uhhhh…"

"Dinner. Tomorrow night. Ask if she's free."

"El, that's...I mean...This is just the second date. Maybe…"

"Invite her! If she wants to, she will. If she doesn't want to, we get it. We totally get it, but invite her," she said, pointing her finger at him. "Don't just say you're inviting her to me and that she can't come, but actually just never ask her."

"I don't...do that."

"You literally did it last year when I told you to invite Vera to dinner a few months ago."

"In my defense, she was not a great person."

"True, but _still_ …"

"Okay, okay!"

Morgan followed Ellie as she walked around the bed towards the door. "Don't you think it's a little too soon for her to be seeing the _Tron_ poster?" he asked, chuckling. "Not exactly a natural aphrodisiac."

Chuck glared openly at his best friend. But it was nothing compared to the way Ellie wordlessly stopped and stared at Morgan, her features unmoving. He must've felt her white hot burning gaze on the side of his face because he glanced up and immediately looked away, his face much paler than it had been.

"Dinner. Perfect. I'll...clear my schedule."

With one last sweet smile, his sister strode out of his bedroom. He took a deep breath, hanging up the rest of his shirts. This was going to be...interesting. Interesting was the word he was using...Interesting. Dear God.

}o{

Sarah spotted Chuck standing at the sidewalk outside of his apartment complex, his hands stuffed in his pockets, staring down at his feet as he shuffled his weight back and forth. And he looked up as she turned the wheel and pulled up against the curb beside him, her tires screeching a bit as she stopped.

She looked out of the open passenger window at him and sighed as he blinked at her Porsche. "Get in," she called.

He'd stooped down to let his eyes run up and down the sleek body of the car, and she let him, smirking a little, at least inwardly.

"Wow, Wienerlicious really pays well, huh?"

She didn't have much patience tonight, though. Not after that meeting about Dr. Zarnow. She hadn't received much reassurance from the way her superiors had talked about the experiment with the doctor and Chuck. They thought he _might_ know how to retrieve the secrets from Chuck's brain again. Or at least, he was apparently the best person to figure out how to go about handling the situation. But the entire meeting was about "the asset" and making sure they kept him in the dark as best they could. He could know nothing.

And Beckman had given her agent a bit of a look when she mentioned they couldn't have Dr. Zarnow seeing Chuck. Under no circumstances, she'd emphasized. And while she knew that was to ensure Chuck's identity was kept a secret, it had felt strange. There was something about this that felt bigger, and she would have to keep her guard up extra, she thought. Around Casey, especially.

Normally, she might bring this up with her own superior, as Graham had likely missed the look the general had given Casey, but she thought she had a good enough reason to keep it to herself this time.

"So, uh...what are we doin'? We, uh, we goin' to a movie, or…?" Chuck asked then, moving to the door and opening it. For a moment, he looked almost hesitant to be getting into her car, as though he realized he was about to climb into a Porsche, as though he was almost savoring the moment. And it made this stupid date feel...grosser.

"Not exactly," she said, not caring if he heard a bit of annoyance in her voice. It wasn't directed at him, after all.

She saw him turn to look at her, his brow furrowed, lips pursed, and she took a moment to take in how cute his incredibly long legs looked all scrunched up in the small space. "Wh-what d'ya mean...not exactly? What does not exactly mean...exactly?"

Sarah found herself smiling at him, or maybe rather...about him...as she pulled away from the curb and drove along the streets to the Buy More. He'd find out soon enough, but she had to be extra focused tonight. For a good chunk of it, she'd be outnumbered if anything went south.

And if she was going to be focused, she couldn't let this man's little quirks throw her or distract her, the way they had on their...first date.

When they pulled into the Buy More parking lot after a comfortably quiet drive, Chuck became visibly confused. "Whaaaat are we doin' here?"

But she knew he was smart enough to figure out by now that this date she'd invited him on wasn't going to be anything like an actual date. No movies. No food. No walking him up to his door for a goodnight kiss. Instead, a doctor who may or may not be able to get the secrets out of his head, a doctor who may or may not actually be a threat to him. And, of course, there was Casey.

"Well, not a movie. Really. Sort of one. But not really," she said, climbing out from behind the steering wheel. He was a lot less graceful getting out of the passenger seat, she noticed, almost as if he'd forgotten how to work his own limbs, staggering out and standing with a relieved grunt. He cleared his throat, brushed off the shoulder of his shirt, and shut the passenger door. "You good?" she asked.

"Yes."

And she smiled at his back as he walked ahead of her, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

He unlocked the door and let her in first, locking it again behind him and turning off the alarm, and they stepped fully into the store together.

"So! Here we are on our date at the Buy More…" She watched him turn in a full circle, taking everything in. "Is this all part of 'the plan', or a chance for me to clock in on some over time?"

There was no sense in keeping Chuck in the dark on everything. She'd decided that in the car on the way from her place to Chuck's. As much as her superiors might've wanted Chuck to just walk in, do what they told him to, and leave again without asking questions about what in the hell all of this was, they all were seeming to forget this guy was also a human being. Not an asset, and not a computer. A person. She couldn't let herself forget.

And so she'd have to tell him before they got to the theater room. Before they had ears on them.

"There's a doctor coming to see you, Chuck. He apparently knows about this program Bryce sent you. He worked on the encoding process for the thing...that...put those secrets in your head." She hated that she didn't have the clearance to know more than that. It infuriated her. "He's coming to examine you," she finished. And that better be all, she thought to herself.

"Uh huh…" Chuck looked nervous for the first time since he got into her car suddenly. "And does this...examination involve, oh I dunno, say...needles? Or perhaps probing of some kind?" His eyes widened.

"The doctor is our best shot at helping you." He took a deep breath and she gave him a reassuring smile, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "It's what you want, right? To get the secrets out of your head?"

He gave her a long look and for once, she couldn't read it. And then he burst out, "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

Deciding not to think much on it, she strode away from him.

"You-You're still being very vague about the probing and I'd like to know the answer to that."

When they got inside, she noticed Casey wasn't there. Frowning to herself, she decided she'd set it all up herself. The NSA agent was probably making sure Zarnow was set, too. But her guard was still up as she led Chuck to the desk.

She grabbed the headset and handed it to him. "Here, put this on."

"Oh. Rad. Think the government has an extra set of these I can use for my Call of Duty sessions? This would be perfect for late at night when Ellie and Awesome are sleeping. Really cuts down on the noise."

Sarah just gave him a long look.

He blushed a little and cleared his throat. "That's a no, then. Figured, uh, figured I'd just...ask. Alrighty, then."

Chuck put the headset on and turned to face the rest of the room. She put a hand on his shoulder and gestured to the couch. "Have a seat, Chuck."

"Right. Okay." He moved to the couch and plopped down as she crossed the theater room to pick up the remote for the curtains. She tried not to dwell too much on how eagerly he was following her instructions.

And as he sat down, she decided a bit more explanation might be required. "We rewired the home theater room for this test." She pointed the remote at the windows and pressed the button, the grey curtains behind Chuck sliding closed. "When the images start, just say what they are."

He looked a bit confused again, startled almost. And then he looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "That's it?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way to screw it up."

Sarah rolled her eyes, feeling incredibly tired suddenly as she turned on her heels to see Casey leaning against the doorframe jauntily, proud of himself for the line he'd just delivered, the asshole. "The doctor's here," the major said, looking at her. She nodded, ready to leave Chuck alone in the room, but then he spoke up.

"When do I get to meet him?" he asked, innocent curiosity in his voice.

"You don't," she explained, setting the remote down. "It's important that he doesn't see you. You're too valuable."

She walked right out of the room, hearing Chuck's sardonic, "Thaaanks, I'm flattered and totally freaked out."

She chose not to look at him right then, afraid of what she'd see on his face, and she let Casey shut the rest of the curtains and shut the door behind them.

"We sure about this Zarnow character?" Casey asked then as they slowly made their way towards the center of the store. She saw the doctor standing there, waiting for them at the Nerd Herd desk, half shrouded in shadow.

"He worked on this thing, didn't he?" she asked over her shoulder. "If anyone can help, hopefully it's him."

"Good, 'cause I want the hell off this ride. If I gotta sell one more freakin' DVD player…" He stopped then as they closed in on the doctor. "Dr. Zarnow…"

"Agent Casey. Agent Walker."

As he reached out to shake her hand, she said, "Thank you for meeting us at a neutral site."

"Let's begin." And he made his way around behind the desk, setting his briefcase and laptop bag on top of it and unloading everything he needed. At least he was getting down to business, no glitz and glamour to speak of.

Sarah kept one eye on the home theater room as the scientist continued to set everything up, and when he finally turned on his computer and nodded to them, she turned to give Casey a long look. He met her gaze, but she couldn't read his stoney features.

"I don't understand why I can't see my patient," Dr. Zarnow said then, typing away.

Sarah watched him closely as she answered. "For your safety, we're keeping Patient X's identity a secret."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but his fingers slowed down on the keyboard and he glanced at her quickly, before he went right back to work. "And does...Patient X work here?"

Red flags went off immediately at how forced his nonchalance was. She crossed her arms and turned to watch as Casey took point in answering that question. "Patient X...with the secrets he has in his brain...working at a Buy More?"

"Ridiculous," Zarnow scoffed, nodding and going back to his computer again.

She and Casey exchanged a look at that. And she wondered if he had similar misgivings at the moment, considering this guy was asking questions he really shouldn't be asking. Questions he knew he didn't have the clearance to ask.

"All right. We're ready. Connect me with Patient X, please."

Casey reached over, connected the mic, and gestured for Zarnow to start. "Go 'head, doc."

"After the tone, we will begin," he said.

Chuck's voice came from Zarnow's computer speakers. "Uhhh! Uh, dog...hippopotamus...fat guuuuy..." Sarah raised her eyebrows at that as Casey let out an amused grunt. "Ugly building…" Zarnow typed quickly and hit enter. "Really beautiful woman at the beach." The scientist's features went hard then as he typed and hit enter. There was a long pause, and then Chuck's voice came through rushed, but almost droning, as though he was reciting something, or he'd lost control of his own mouth. "Cardinal One is the top Moscow spy in the White House office of…" He kept talking, rapidly, barely taking a breath as Zarnow continued clicking through each picture. The things he was saying... plotted assassinations, airlines being shot down, something about a base under the Denver International Airport. She'd never heard any of this before, and as she turned to look up at Casey, she saw his eyes were widening as well. Zarnow clicked to one last picture and there was finally silence for just a split second.

"Okay. Well, that's just a picture of a turtle."

Sarah wasn't even sure how long they'd been standing there, how much information Chuck had just spewed as though he was reading it straight out of top secret files, word for word. What in the hell was in his head? How was any of this happening?

Zarnow pulled at the connection to the mic so that Chuck couldn't hear them anymore and he let out a long breath. "This patient is phenomenal. We never imagined…"

"What didn't you imagine?" she asked, her heart racing a mile a minute.

He looked up at her, and then switched his gaze over to Casey. "The information he has retained in his brain...it's…" She watched as he changed tack. "It's a wonder he is still—"

"Can you get the secrets out of his head?" Casey interrupted. Sarah turned to glare a bit at the NSA agent. Yes, that was the most pertinent question, the thing they were here for, but what in the hell had they done to this guy? What had Bryce done to him?

"Yes," Dr. Zarnow finally answered, nodding slowly. "I think I can."

Relief spilled through her, but she kept it under lock and key as Casey sent her a sidelong glance, and she merely gave him a small, thoughtful smile, something he might take as a shared 'Thank God we can get out of this place' moment between them.

"H-Hey. Uh...G-Guys? The screen went blank. Is the screen supposed to go blank? Nothing's there. I think it's broken." Sarah smiled a little harder at the computer Chuck's voice was coming out of and then cleared her throat.

"Casey, do you want to make sure Dr. Zarnow gets back to his car all right? And I'll deal with...Patient X." She turned to the scientist and shook his hand. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Zarnow. Looking forward to getting things back to normal," she said.

"Agent Walker."

She moved away from the two men, and stole a quick glance over her shoulder at them as they spoke in low tones while Zarnow started powering down and packing everything up. Part of her didn't want to leave the two of them alone together, but more than that, she had no idea what sort of a state of mind Chuck might be in after over an hour's worth of...whatever Zarnow had been doing to him with those photographs. She didn't understand this program. It was above her clearance, she knew. But it was also above Major Casey's clearance. So why in the hell didn't he seem as spooked or surprised by what he'd seen Chuck do tonight?

Wiping any semblance of concern from her face, pinching her cheeks a little to get color back in them, she opened the door to the home theater room and stepped inside. Chuck whipped around from where he still sat on the couch, headset still on, and he immediately pointed at the television.

"Hey. Uh, I dunno if you could hear me out there. But the TV stopped. I mean, there's nothin' on it."

"Oh. Yeah, you're done. Test is over."

"Oh! Great! Okay, that makes sense. Good."

She turned on the light and saw him wince, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You okay?" she asked tentatively, stopping mid-stride.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Just…" He swept his eyes up to meet hers and shook his head. "Nothin'. I'm all good. Wasn't ready for the lights, that's all."

"Oh. Okay." She closed the distance and leaned down to gently take the headset off of him, wincing and apologizing when one of his curls got caught in it for a second. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he chuckled. "I'm surprised I'm not bald with how often I've done the same thing while gaming. I have such cheap freakin' earphones at home. I just stopped usin' 'em."

She smiled and put the headset back on the desk. Casey could deal with the rest of this, she decided. She was taking Chuck home. He seemed quiet now, but he wasn't freaking out the way she imagined he might. No flailing and wondering how the hell he knew all of that. Had he forgotten? Did he even know he'd said those things?

Chuck climbed to his feet and tugged a little on the legs of his jeans, straightening his shirt. "I get, uh, I get why you said it's sort of a movie. Only thing was, I was watching it...alone." He chuckled. "While you were out there. Which...if this were a real date, that'd be super weird."

She watched as he winced at what he was saying and shook his head, a self-deprecating chuckle coming out of him as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. But then he walked right towards the door to leave and she had to lunge to block him. He walked right into her and she had to put her hand on his chest to keep the body contact to a minimum. And yet…

"Sorry," she breathed. "The doctor might still be out there and we can't let him see you, or...vice versa."

Chuck gulped and nodded, taking a step back. "No, of course. I get it. Sorry, I, uh, I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay. I'll go check." She gave him one last smile and ducked out of the room, leaning to the side and peeking around towards the Nerd Herd desk. Zarnow and Casey were gone, it looked like. That had been mercifully quick. "Okay, Chuck...we're good."

He emerged out of the theater room and shrugged, checking his watch. His eyes bugged as he looked at it. "Oh...shit, wha—I was in there for almost two hours? That...that didn't feel like…" He shook his head and huffed. "No wonder my head kinda hurts. S'why my sister used to tell me to stop playing video games in the dark. Bad for your, uh, your eyes. I don't know what I'm saying. Um...what's next?"

"Come on," she said, gesturing for him to follow her back through the store. They caught Casey as he was making his way back in. "I'm taking Chuck home. You're cleaning up."

Casey grunted and gave Chuck a look. Something was different in it, she thought. Like what he'd just seen had given him a new appreciation. She inwardly scoffed at that. Appreciation…? Maybe not that. But at least, he might be intrigued.

Sarah was more than intrigued. All of this didn't sit right with her. How was she supposed to protect Chuck when she didn't even know the full extent of what she was protecting him from? This seemed much bigger than she'd been led to believe. None of this felt right.

"Uh...g'night, Casey," Chuck chirped, waving. They both watched as the man kept walking into the store as though Chuck hadn't said a word. "Cool," he murmured so only she could hear it. "Awesome...good talk. What a nice guy. Real friendly."

She sniffed in amusement as they made their way to her car and got inside again. She glanced at her watch and nibbled her lip thoughtfully as she drove back towards his place. It was only ten-thirty, she'd picked him up at eight…

"Chuck, you mind if we drive around for a bit?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Uh, n-no. Not at all. Why, if I may ask?"

"This date only lasted for two and a half hours and our first one went well past sunrise. At least, that's how it might look to your sister and her boyfriend."

"Oh. Ohh! Good point. That's probably not good for the cover, right? They might think the date went south or somethin', huh?"

"Exactly."

"Yeah. Makes sense. You hungry? We can maybe get some ice cream."

"Um...sure. Yeah. That's a good idea."

They took another hour to get ice cream, the conversation very light, Chuck telling her about the shipment they'd gotten at the Buy More earlier, and how someone had let his coworker Jeff have scissors and that he accidentally cut most of the product boxes trying to open the UPS parcels, and that most of it probably wasn't even sellable anymore. And Chuck somehow got chewed out by another coworker named Harry Tang, as though he'd put the scissors in Jeff's hand himself.

She didn't understand how he'd managed to be in that place for years with all of those people. How he didn't downright lose his mind in that time. And she wondered if maybe his brain was just that incredible. Considering what she'd witnessed tonight, she thought it had to be. She couldn't believe her eyes. And here he was sitting there in the passenger seat of her Porsche as she pulled around to the curb outside of his complex, alert, alive, his brain functioning normal enough. Except for the headache he'd complained about right after the fact.

Had what Zarnow done to his head caused it, she wondered? The pictures? Had it been overworked?

She fought down the worry at that thought as she finally brought her car to a stop and turned to look at him.

"So! Did I...pass the test?" He rubbed his hands down his pants a bit nervously.

"You did great, Chuck," she said sincerely. Because he had. To an extent that she wasn't even sure she understood yet.

"And this doctor guy? He can fix me?" His eyebrows turned down in the middle.

"He's hopeful. Yeah," she said with a nod. She felt ridiculous saying that, she felt like a liar, like she was just saying bullshit to keep him calm, pliable. And with the way he was looking at her, like he was searching for something, maybe something reassuring, something that would help him sleep tonight, she felt like she wanted to just sink into the pavement under her car.

He didn't seem to find what he needed as he nodded back. "Okay!" He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned away from her to open his door as she felt her face crumble for a moment. But then he stopped and she schooled her features as he spun back with an, "Oh! Oh, I almost forgot! Uh. Dinner. Tomorrow. My place. If you can. With my sister and her boyfriend, Captain Awesome. She really wanted to meet you, so…"

"Oh." She plastered a smile on her face. "Okay, well that's a good idea."

"Meeting the family's kind of a big step," he kept going, not meeting her eye, "if our relationship were...remotely real." His short chuckle was so warm and sweet, and she felt her smile dim just a tad. And then their eyes finally met for a long moment, and he looked down with an equally sweet clearing of his throat. "So, um...If this whole examination thing works out then I guess—I guess we're through, huh?"

Sarah made a point of looking straight ahead, knowing where he was going with this. "Uh, yeah. Mhm." She spared him a quick, closed-mouth smile.

Again, she felt like he'd probably hoped for more out of her answer. She didn't know what. But something. And again, he hadn't gotten it. He just stared at her for a while, his brown eyes swirling, the air in the car suddenly getting almost a bit tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, well…" He cleared his throat again and actually swung the door open this time. "G'night."

"Night," she said, noticing how quiet his voice had gotten, how soft everything about him suddenly was. And she watched him with somewhat of an ache starting deep in her chest. She suddenly just wanted to go back to her room, get out of here, be alone.

But then he turned again as he shut the door, leaning down and draping his arms over the door, looking in at her through the open window. Why'd he have to be so soft? Why couldn't he freak out, ask her what in the hell all of this was? Ask her what was happening to him? Why couldn't he be angry? Or upset? Instead of this...softness…

"Oh, and uh...just so ya know…" He smiled at her, the streetlight shining down on his curls and his shoulders in a way that made her want to scream. "Um. Tonight was probably the best...only...second date I've been on in years." He chuckled warmly, willingly admitting something she thought most people—guys especially—wouldn't be secure enough to admit. But she saw the insecurity there anyway, in the teasing self-deprecation he was so good at, she was coming to realize.

She couldn't do anything else but smile slowly, unaware of how much of that smile was in her eyes. Unaware that he could see it plainly.

"Drive safe," he finally said, thumping his open palm on the door, and then he straightened to his full height and walked away from her. A pang went through her chest, acute and painful and sudden, and she felt her smile drop away immediately.

When he got to the entrance gate that led into the courtyard, he turned a bit awkwardly and gave her a half wave. She waved back and forced a smile onto her face, keeping it there until he was out of sight.

Knowing what he knew, that an old school friend of his had screwed him over by sending him an email that forced government secrets into his brain somehow, that his life was potentially irrevocably changed, and for all he knew, for the worst… How was he still like...this? Joking with her, positive, asking her if she wanted to get ice cream to make this non-date last longer, seeking reassurance from her and not being actively upset when she couldn't give him what he needed…?

And even the simple kindness of telling her he enjoyed the non-date, even if he was teasing her, in order to get a smile out of her. That was his thing, though, wasn't it? She thought as she drove away. He did and said things to get smiles out of people. But, she noticed lately especially, he particularly directed his efforts towards her.

By the time she got back into her room, she went straight for her bed, climbing onto it, grabbing one of her pillows, and letting out a loud, soul-deep roar of a yell into it. It was supposed to be cathartic, but it only helped a little.

How was she supposed to keep doing this? She had to, and she knew it. But he was making it so easy for her, actively making it easy...and that made it so much harder.

She was afraid Casey knew things she didn't know, that his superior had told him more than her superior had told her. She was afraid Zarnow had something up his sleeve. She was afraid of the information Chuck had in his head and what it might mean for him and his future. And she was afraid she was alone in all of this, floundering, trying to find her footing.

She would have to do her best with what she was given. And in the meantime, she'd also have to see what else she could find out about this program Bryce had sent to Chuck, and why Graham felt it was so important that he was working with NSA to retrieve it, protect it until they _could_ retrieve it. And she would have to do it all on her own, behind the scenes.

Agent Walker fell asleep that way, dress and heels still on her feet, and she didn't wake up again until just after sunrise...to the news that Dr. Zarnow had been murdered sometime in the night.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! We'll be back, but we would love it if you reviewed this chapter in the meantime.

-SC and DC


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thanks again for your reviews! Keep 'em coming!

 **Disclaimer:** Neither of us own Chuck or profit off of it monetarily...it does bring joy to our hearts however.

* * *

Chuck was getting ready for another day at the Buy More as Ellie walked in. He was tying his Converse and she was reading the paper. "Did you see this?"

Chuck looked up at her. "Uh, what?"

Ellie thrust the paper into his face. The bold headline read Bank Executive Dies in Robbery. "Did you know that Bryce was dead?"

Here it comes, he thought to himself. It was bad enough he had to lie to her about Sarah, but now…He looked at the headline for a second, feelings in him he wasn't expecting coming to the surface. "No, no, I didn't." He looked at her, shook his head, and moved toward his closet.

She crossed her arms and moved toward him in protector mode. "Well, are you okay?"

Chuck was in his closet looking for his shirt. He turned. This...This he could answer honestly. "I don't know. Um... yeah, I don't know. It's crazy. I, uh, I spent so much time hating him for getting me kicked out of Stanford, I don't know, really, how to feel, but it's hard to be mad at him now."

Ellie gave him a sad smile. "I'm really sorry, Chuck." She left him alone, taking a last glance at the paper. Chuck picked up the paper and stared at the picture. Why had Bryce died sending this thing to him? His anger dimmed a bit now that he knew he was dead. But there was still a large part of him that was angry with his old friend. Because his life was in danger now, and Ellie's, and he didn't know if he'd ever get back to normal again. In fact, part of him was pretty sure it never would.

}o{

Sarah surveyed the scene. Casey was on the phone with his boss unsurprisingly. Sarah had heard nothing from Graham after the initial call in which she found out Zarnow was dead. She moved the remains of a wheel with her foot. Was that—? She squatted and picked up what she thought was an NSA Incinerator and pocketed it without Casey seeing it. She looked around a minute longer and headed around the car toward Casey.

She spoke first to tell him of her findings. "Well... no sign of anything here."

"It looks like we're sending the good doctor home in an ashtray."

He was smirking, and she really didn't like a smirker, but she played along and smirked back. "Okay, well, I've got hot dogs to fry."

"And I've got some toasters to sell."

She nodded and walked away wordlessly. She was quite sure he was about to call his boss. What he was going to say, she wasn't sure. Did he do this because he wanted to, because of orders, or was he just in a bad mood and wanted to kill someone? She got in the car, pulled out the device, put it in an evidence bag, and dropped it between the seats where the newspaper was….the one with Bryce's picture. The one reminding her of the stakes. She couldn't screw this up. If she did, Chuck was dead….and maybe her too.

}o{

Another Buy More day, another Buy More dollar. Chuck had survived the night with no side effects from the tests, no probes stuck where they didn't belong, and no scary dreams about Sarah. He and Morgan were having an important conversation...about his Rock Band guitar.

"The strong bars are getting a little sticky. On... on one. On the other one, it's fine, but on the second…"

Casey grabbed Chuck's arm as he walked up to Chuck and whispered into his ear. "You can't trust her."

"Chuck. John." Oh boy, the boss. Chuck was pretty sure it wasn't donut time, pretty sure it wasn't nap time, and was about positive the pills he had gotten Big Mike a few days ago had gotten him back to being regular so it wasn't bathroom time. This could be bad.

"Big Mike." All three answered.

"How's customer service training?" Chuck wanted to crawl under the store. Big Mike never cared about customer service. Had he met Jeff and Lester? Hell, had he met Morgan and Anna?

"Fine. Super." It wasn't really lying. Casey was already a better employee than any of the Buy More green shirts.

"Glad to hear it. The better my employees, the less I have to work."

"Very inspiring words, sir." Chuck was proud to say that with a straight face.

"Regular call to arms," Casey added, making Chuck have to hold it together and not laugh out loud.

"Well, go make 'em better. Show me you're assistant manager material. Chop-chop! I got a nap in an hour." Chuck led Casey off. This was his shot, and what a shot it was. Casey was already a good employee, but if Chuck could help Casey take the next step it might seal the assistant manager position for him.

He grabbed the scanner, determined to be the best Buy More customer service trainer ever. "So, uh, this is the hand-held scanner." He glanced over his shoulder seeing Big Mike watching Chuck closely. Chuck continued trying not to be nervous with his training. "Very expensive piece of equipment."

"So is a stealth fighter and somehow I managed to fly that."

Welp...how do you combat that? "Right, uh, and the gun, you know, kind of works like a…" searching for the word.

"Gun?"

"Uh-huh," Chuck answered showing Casey how to scan the barcodes. "And it beeps when you scan the barcodes."

Casey walked over to Chuck. "Well, if it screamed out loud, I'd be right at home." Then he turned and pointedly watched Big Mike enter his office. The moment their boss couldn't see them anymore, he took the scanner and placed it under Chuck's chin, making Chuck's eyes grow wide. "Listen. I do not want you to have any more private meetings with Sarah, hmm?" Casey looked way too comfortable with that gun.

"Um, is there... is there a problem?"

"No problems, only solutions." Casey pulled the trigger on the scanner making it beep and then he lowered it.

Chuck had been nervous when Casey held the gun on him on the rooftop, but he found himself similarly nervous with the scanner...or was it Casey...probably Casey.

"Well, that... sounds very much like the Buy More customer policy that I've noticed you have some issue with." Chuck was trying to get control of the situation when his laptop beeped with a message. _CHUCK I NEED TO SEE YOU. WIENERLICIOUS. ASAP._ Hmm. All caps, punctuation, no abbreviations except ASAP and everyone abbreviated ASAP...Sarah was very serious, or she didn't know messaging protocol...or both. He figured it could be both, which was kind of cute… Cute? She was a killer. He had seen it in his flash. She was dangerous…..he shook his head. He had to deal with Casey. "And you kn—uh... you know what I think we're gonna do about that? We're gonna do some role-playing, and work on that attitude of yours. How about that?" As he talked he did some hopping around Casey and closed the laptop. "Hey, Morgan." He snapped his fingers.

Morgan appeared behind him as if by magic. "Hi, yo."

Chuck spun around. "Ah, hey, there he is. There's my Johnny-on-the-spot. Morgan and Casey, you guys are gonna do some stuff. You're gonna be a shopper, and you're gonna be the sales rep, like you are. And, uh, I'm gonna talk to Big Mike and-and work on some stuff 'cause I know he's got other things in store." Chuck made his way out of the store, sneaking so that Casey couldn't see him. He was nervous...worried. What was going on? Why did Casey not want him to see Sarah? Why did Sarah use all caps? He hurried to the Wienerlicious. He entered to see the drove of high school boys getting their to go orders. He was pretty sure why they were there and he wondered if the CIA got a cut in the rise of the Wienerlicious profits.

}o{

Sarah watched him approach through the gang of hormonal teenagers. She didn't know if Graham had done this on purpose or not, sticking her at the Wienerlicious, but if he did, he would pay one day.

Chuck had a slight look of worry on his face. She would love to calm him down, but he had to understand how serious this was. "So, Chuck, no private meetings with Casey today."

Chuck's face was covered in confusion. "What? What is up with you guys? Did you two have a falling out? Did Graham steal Beckman's stapler?" He crossed his arms as he spoke. She gave him a flat look, but on the inside, she really wanted to snicker. He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Did he tell you the same thing?" He didn't have to answer. She smiled and nodded, but it wasn't a happy smile. He was trying to turn her against him. Of course he was. Divide and conquer. The NSA was militant in nature as were so many of the things they did. She tried to smile to make him comfortable, but she was seething and the smile that reached her face was more the smile of a teacher who was about to bring down the wrath of God on a student for seeing what happens when you put a bullet on a radiator in shop class. She might have been said student at one time in her life. "Right, of course he did."

"Hold on a second." He was starting to get it, and that would be bad. "Is something wrong?"

She needed to be patient. He was thrown into this. He had to know, but there was no use scaring the life out of him. "The doctor from last night— he was killed in an explosion soon after he left us."

Chuck began to freak out and look around. He made sure no one was in there with them before he lost it. He was getting a little better on that front, she thought….a little. "Wha-what? The doctor who was supposed to fix me?"

She reached under the counter and pulled the blackened, burnt up cellphone in an evidence bag out. He seemed to know things by looking at them, so it was time to test the theory. "Tell me what this is."

He picked up the bag and looked at it shaking his head. "A... a nasty…" His eyes began to cross, rolling in their sockets a bit. He looked like he saw something bright and tasted something really sour all at the same time. "NSA incinerator. Special issue designed to eliminate all biological traces." He dropped it and stared at it for a moment. "That's what killed the doctor."

She had been around Chuck enough by now. Telling him something freaked him out, but leading him there, getting him to figure it out on his own, seemed to help keep him calmer. "And guess who works for the NSA?"

He turned and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the Buy More. "Why?" He turned back around quickly. "Why, why would Casey—?"

She cut him off before the spiral began. She had to be gentle, but there wasn't much to be gentle with. She did her best to explain her world to him. The world she and Casey lived in. One someone like him had no business in. Because he didn't deserve to be corrupted like she and Casey were. She explained in the most patient voice she could find without sounding patronizing. "He's a killer, Chuck. It's what he does for a living. He tried to kill us, and he'll probably try to do it again. Maybe it was orders. Maybe he didn't like the way Zarnow looked at him."

"Oh, that's nice. I feel much better now, Sarah. What am I supposed to do?"

He was in full on freak out mode. She had to make him understand. She hated doing this but anything else was signing his death warrant. If Casey knew, if he suspected, he'd come after her, and that would save Chuck. "You go back in there and you pretend like you know nothing." His mouth was hanging open. "Go. You can do that, Chuck." She was as encouraging as she could be. She hated this, but it was the only way for right now. If he was coming after them they could run tonight. Casey wouldn't kill him in public, but later she could get him away and do what? She didn't know, but they would figure that out later.

"I know nothing. I know nothing, I... got it." She watched him turn and walk away, fear gripping her chest. She hated this, and she hated Graham for putting her in this situation.

}o{

She'd known he would show up at the Wienerlicious at some point. That was why she sent Chuck back instead of keeping him here with her where she could keep him safe. He'd recognize the barely controlled panic on Chuck's face and he'd put two and two together.

Maybe sending Chuck back to the Buy More as bait wasn't entirely kind, but she knew Major John Casey of the NSA's reputation. And after going this many days without getting to use his gun or enact violence on other humans, he was going to seek her out before he did anything with Chuck. The Nerd Herd supervisor was safer at the Buy More.

She didn't even watch her customer leave once Casey stepped inside of the restaurant. Instead, she lowered her chin and met his blood-thirsty look with her favorite _Try me, mother fucker_ look.

"What'd you tell Chuck?" he asked, already posed to attack if he had to. She knew he was going to. But she was fast. Faster than he was. And she knew for a fact that she had this asshole. She'd have him blindfolded.

"That you're a cold-blooded killer. Was I lying?"

"No," he admitted unsurprisingly easily. "Way I figure it, the only two people who knew Dr. Zarnow was coming are right here."

Sarah turned her back to him as he spoke, scanning the area around her, looking for anything she might be able to use as a weapon. The basket in the fryer? Maybe. But she'd have to be close. And she was certain he had a gun. Her eyes fastened on the wooden corndog sticks lined up in a row...and she subtly dropped her fingers on top of them, playing with them. She curled her fingers around one of them and turned to watch him over her shoulder.

"Since _I_ didn't cap 'im, you're under arrest." The gun came out immediately, but he was too slow, just like she'd figured, and he had the corndog stick skewering his right hand before he could get a shot off. She loved the surprised, wide-eyed look on his face, and she took advantage of it by rolling over the countertop and coming through with two more of the corndog sticks, aimed right at his chest.

This time he was fast enough, though, bringing a tray up to block them. She saw him raise the gun again and she swung her foot around to kick it out of his hand and away from them. Weapon down… He was next.

But first she had to rid him of the tray. She hit it out of his other hand, then brought her elbow around to crack him in the face, but he blocked, coming in with a fist of his own. With a quick block and a one two punch, she caught him unawares and brought the back of her fist across his iron jaw. It felt like hitting a boulder, holy crap, but she just grit her teeth and tried to go in on him again.

She left herself exposed enough to take a backhand across her cheek. He followed her as she fell back and she was able to bring her foot up to jam it into his chest and knock him against the utensil cart.

A spike of smugness went through her as she saw him pick up one of the plastic forks. He came at her, swiping the fork through the air around her head as she ducked his attacks. When Casey went at her with his full body, she used his momentum to step to the side and throw him into the table behind her.

She needed another weapon to end this. Her blood was pumping, and the adrenaline felt good, but Chuck was in danger, _she_ was in danger, and she needed to subdue the NSA agent so that she could get to the bottom of this.

Spotting the mop propped against the opposite wall, she hurried to it and cracked it in half with a quick jab of her hand, spinning on her heel to face him with a weapon now. That _oh shit_ look was back on his face, then, and she didn't have enough time to savor it because he was going for the table to get a weapon of his own.

She lunged and slammed the makeshift staff down on his hand as he cried out in pain and staggered back. But he surprised her by straightening up with a chair gripped in both hands.

He blocked her attack once, twice, a third time, then caught her staff in the legs of the chair and ripped it hard enough to the side that it was yanked out of her grip. He brought a boot up to kick her ribs and she fell back in surprise and pain.

But he put too much power again into swinging the chair down on her head and she was too quick for him, side-stepping it and slamming her foot into his stomach as hard as she could. He crashed into the countertop and flew over it, landed on the floor on the other side, but she knew, as easy as it was, it wasn't going to be _that_ easy. So she followed him, hopping up onto the countertop.

Sarah was ready when Casey popped up again to attack, and she swung her foot around to crack it into his temple. He collapsed to the floor immediately and she raised her fists, ready for him to budge or try to attack again as she crouched on the counter.

There was a jingle of the bell behind her and she spun to see a group of pre-teen boys stagger in, their jaws dropping. One of them had his phone up, pointed at her. "Quick, dude! Take the pic!" They rushed out just as quickly as she gave them a look like she'd murder them next, and as they left, too scared to actually take the picture, she spun back to see that Casey had escaped through the back.

She let her head fall back and huffed, aware that they were in some deep shit now. Not only did she not know what she was dealing with when it came to this computer program Chuck had unwittingly downloaded into his brain, she had to deal with the shadiness of her superiors, and now a rogue NSA agent.

Sarah let out a rough breath and plopped down to sit on the counter, letting her legs dangle. Or maybe Casey wasn't rogue, and instead he was working under orders. If he'd killed Zarnow, it had to be because the NSA didn't want those secrets out of Chuck's head. But why? ...Why would they want their secrets stuck in the head of a Buy More employee with no spy training, no experience in intelligence work?

She looked at her watch and saw it was almost time for the dinner at Chuck's place. With his sister. He was probably on his way there now.

Pulling her phone out, she hopped down onto the floor and controlled her breathing. Her boss Scooter walked out just as she came around to go to the back and grab her bag. "What the hell is—?"

"My shift is over. See you tomorrow," she said, dialing one of the local CIA contacts.

"What happened in—"

She didn't stop to listen to him. As she hurried to her car, she sent a look over her shoulder across the parking lot towards the Buy More. When they answered the phone, she barked out a quick, "I need a chocolate souffle. Rendezvous in thirty minutes." She gave the address of a dry cleaner she knew Chuck had used the other day that was down the street from his place, got the confirmation code, and hung up.

At least she wouldn't be showing up to dinner empty handed. God, this really was the worst timing. But at least this way she could keep an eye on Chuck's family. If Casey meant Chuck harm, and she wasn't exactly sure that he did, Chuck and everyone he cared about would be in one place tonight.

She'd just have to kick Casey's ass again.

}o{

I know nothing. I know nothing. I know nothing. Yeah, no matter how many times he repeated his mantra, he knew something.

He knew there was a killer out there who had taken out Zarnow. He worked with a killer….two of them. A NSA incinerator was used in the killing. One of the two killers he knew was a NSA agent….the other was Sarah. What had Casey called her…oh yeah. The Ice Queen. That didn't make a lot of sense. Sure, she was very to the point when she wanted to be but on the date they had…. He was her mission. She was playing a role, but still. She must be the best, because for a bit, for a tiny bit, he'd thought they had something. When he said he could be her baggage handler...God, what an idiot he had been. But she hadn't been run off by what he said. He grinned at that and then realized, again, he was her mission...and that made him frown. She had played him.

 _I know nothing. I know nothing. I know nothing._ Wasn't that the truest statement ever?

"Mr. Bartowski." Lester pulled him out of his thoughts, holding paperwork. This ought to be good.

"Hi, Lester."

"Uh, code zebra. Linux install at a factory off Ventura. 142 Euclid." Lester patted him on the back and started to walk away.

"Uh... I'm sorry." Chuck knew there was a stupid reason. It was Jeff and Lester, but he had to ask. "Why-why can't you and Jeff go?"

Lester began to gasp with laughter. "Linux, PCs? We're, uh, we're Mac guys, Chuck. We're... we're IT artists."

Oh, for the love of…."Okay. Yeah. Uh... Fine, whatever. I'll be back in half an hour. And, uh, just tell Casey that I'm on my cell." He started toward the door.

Lester snorted and went to take the desk as he muttered under his breath. "You tell him. I'm not your servant."

Chuck had had enough. He turned back toward Lester. "Okay, you know what…?"

Lester quickly changed his tone and demeanor. "No, no, I mean, I'm gonna tell him. I just, you know, I mean, in general, I don't always... absolutely, I'm going to... right now, should I tell him?" Chuck left. He needed to get away before any more of the two of them rubbed off on him. He really would know nothing if he stayed around them too long. He got in the Nerd Herder and took off.

Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited at the stoplight. He really wasn't in the mood for a home install, and he had a headache again. Not as bad as the one he'd had the other night after Zarnow's test, but it was still there. A dull throb ever since Sarah made him look at that incinerator.

He was tired. He had a headache. And he was a little bit lost, if he was being honest with himself. But it was hard to read the tiny writing in the Los Angeles County Thomas Guide. And finding the right page was hell anyways. On top of the ache between his eyebrows.

Of course, Sarah had just told him the other agent that had been assigned to protect him was a ruthless killer who'd murdered what might be his only chance of getting back to his regular life. Rather, he'd murdered a person. A person who'd been alive. And now he wasn't. Chuck's own situation aside. As he sat there spiraling in his thoughts, the car was lightly bumped and then his cellphone rang. "Hello?"

It was Casey. "Pull over."

"Well, I can't pull over. I have a home install at, uh…"

"142 Euclid? Guess who called that in?"

Terror filled Chuck. He knew! The big guy that wanted pancakes to celebrate killing him knew! "Oh, my god. It was you! You killed the doctor, and now you're here to kill me!" He hung up and put the phone on the seat because safety first, and floored it. He floored the Nerd Herder. As soon as he did he realized the folly of his plan. The Nerd Herder wasn't exactly built for speed. Chuck used all of his driving skills he had mastered over the years playing Mario Kart, but he was up against a trained NSA agent. Casey clipped the back of the car making Chuck spin out.

Casey had hit the Nerd Herder. Rage filled Chuck. He unclipped his seat belt, opened the door, and jumped out, furious. "Are you out of your mind?" Casey got out of his SUV and it dawned on him what a bad plan this all was. He began to scramble around the herder when he saw Casey. "What... what... what... what happened to you?"

Casey stalked toward Chuck. "Your girlfriend happened."

Girlfriend? Casey did realize it was an actual cover, right? "What, who? Sarah? Sarah did that?" Wow...she really was badass. A bit of pride swelled in him.

"She's rogue, Chuck. She killed the doctor, then she tried to kill me."

Wait...if Casey was here….Oh, no. "Is she okay?"

Casey looked as thought he was about to roll his eyes. "Yeah, I'm golden. Thanks for asking."

"No, no, no, why should I believe you? She showed me the bomb. She said you did it." _There. Showed you, Mr. big, mean, and I'm going to eat pancakes after I kill you!_

"NSA incinerator, right? It's a nice explosive easily purchased on the black market. What do you really know about Sarah, Chuck? Huh? Think. She's CIA. She worked with Bryce. He was rogue. Maybe she is, too. She found you in L.A. But she couldn't grab you because I was around. So she had to wait for her chance. Dr. Zarnow screwed that up. He could pull those secrets out of your head, then she loses the Intersect, so she had to act fast."

As Casey spoke, Chuck thought. Everything he was saying was true, plausible, and even likely. Sarah worked with Bryce, and she was CIA just like Casey said. She was inserted into life. She was made his cover girlfriend. Why? To get him alone? She had suggested ice cream the other night, so that didn't make sense...or did it? Chuck thought back to all the detective and spy novels he had read over the years. You get close to someone, get their guard down, and then, BAM! She was targeting Chuck. She was the Ice Queen. She was a stone cold killer. But he never felt scared, even when she pulled a gun on him. Sure he freaked out, but scared? Sarah wouldn't kill him….or was that what she wanted him to think? Chuck knew he could trust Sarah. He also had know Bryce was his friend and Jill would never betray him. The self-doubt creeped back in, and he had to be logical. Casey made excellent points. Chuck's phone rang and it was Sarah. Casey looked down, saw it, took it from him, and turned it off.

"Let's go. Come on." There was no pulling on Chuck. No mistreatment. Casey was trying to save him. Chuck knew he had to go with Casey. They ran to the SUV. As they got to the car, they both heard a phone ring. "Thought I turned that off."

Chuck was digging for a seat belt. "Well, it's not me. Is it yours?"

Casey looked down at his that wasn't ringing. "No." They both turned and looked behind them. They saw something that looked quite familiar.

"NSA incinerator! Run!" They sprinted from the car. Nothing happened. They both stood there watching the SUV. Maybe they were wrong. And then the vehicle exploded, knocking both of them to the ground.

Casey stood, shaking himself off. "Still think it was me?"

Chuck was on his back, staring at the flames. It made no sense and he just blurted out what he was thinking. "Why would Sarah do this?"

Casey spoke like he was doing something routine, everyday, like this was just a part of life, and for him, it probably was. "She's cleaning the operation."

Chuck rolled over and pushed himself up. "Cleaning?"

"Eliminating everyone she's come in contact with. You know where she is?"

 _OH SHIT!_ Tonight was the dinner. Chuck knew EXACTLY where she was heading. "We have to get back to my house. She's having dinner with us tonight."

"No, kid, you're on the next plane to Washington."

What?! He had to reason with Casey. Casey had to be reasonable. "But my sister—"

Casey cut him off. "Doesn't have a super computer in her noggin. You're the priority." He made a phone call and turned around. Chuck bolted for his car. "It's Casey. Put me through to general." Casey turned and saw him. "Hey!" Chuck slammed the door and drove away as Casey lunged for the car. Chuck rushed back to Echo Park to save them. From his cover girlfriend….The Ice Queen. This was not good.

* * *

 **A/N:** More to come, and we're going to start posting quicker, we've decided, so next chapter will most likely be sooner than you expect! Thanks for still reading and thanks for reviewing!

-SC and DC


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** DC here. So last chapter, this one, and the next are very canony...is that a word, SC? (It is now. -SC) Anyway...after that, well...that would be telling, wouldn't it?….But, let's just say we begin to make serious changes. We need the foundation of canon to build what we're going for. And also, we kinda really hit our stride in the next few chapters. I'm not saying we set out to crack the other one up...but it's happened, several times. So we're speeding up the drops, which means we're gonna have to make sure we get two done a week...We hope you're having as much fun as we are, because we're having a freaking blast. And any music you get stuck in your head from this fic...well...blame it on SC. (That's not even fair. -SC)

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we don't own the Chuck characters, and we're making no money off of this, but maybe send help because we're having way too much fun and this is dangerous.

* * *

Agent Walker made her way into the courtyard, soufflé in one hand. Her other hand was hovering at her hip, close to one of her knives, just in case Casey was laying in wait for her to make her appearance.

He probably knew about the dinner, and there was more than a chance that he'd beaten her here if he meant to get the jump on her. But it was important they kept up the cover, made everything seem perfectly normal. In spite of the reality, which was that everything was seemingly imploding right before her eyes.

And she was supposed to meet Chuck's sister for the first time during all of this?

This was so freaking screwed.

She stopped at the door to Chuck's apartment that he shared with his sister and her boyfriend and raised a fist to knock but stopped. She took a deep breath. She didn't know what she'd see when the door opened. Casey might be in there. Or Chuck. Or neither. All she knew was that she'd called Chuck's cell phone three times since Casey disappeared from the Wienerlicious following their skirmish, and he hadn't answered.

The CIA agent was waiting to contact the director until she figured out exactly what was going on.

But it was imperative his sister didn't think anything was amiss.

So she knocked finally, fixed her hair, straightened her blouse, checked on the soufflé one last time, and plastered a gigantic beaming smile on her face as she heard a voice approaching on the other side of the door.

As it swept open, she found she was almost a little overwhelmed by the woman on the other side of the threshold.

"Hi," Ellie Bartowski said. "You're—Wow, are you Sarah? I mean, of course you're Sarah! Hi!" She fixed the wide-eyed look she'd had on her face into a more normal one and just grinned at her, looking a lot less surprised. Instead, there was warmth there. "Come in, hi. I'm Ellie, Chuck's sister."

"Hi," Sarah said, stepping inside and turning to face the pretty brunette. "Uh, Chuck didn't really say what was for dinner, but I thought, you know, a chocolate soufflé goes with everything, right?" She tacked on a shy giggle for effect.

"Oh my God, a soufflé?! Did you make this?!"

"Um. Yes." Sure.

"Wow! Well...I'm impressed."

"Oh." Sarah giggled. "Good. That, uh, that was the goal."

"Pffft!" Ellie scoffed and put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to worry about that. Not at all." Then the other woman gestured to the two men in the room. "Uh, come on in, though. You can give Devon the soufflé…"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna eat it alllll right now," the man Chuck called Captain Awesome said, showing a lot of his teeth with his big grin, but in a...nice way. He moved in to give her a half hug. "Nah, I'm playin'. Not good for the biceps. I'm Devon. Nice to meet you, Sarah."

She laughed at his joke and hugged him back a bit. "Hi, nice to meet you, Devon."

"And, uh...I think you've already met Morgan." Sarah noticed the slightly displeased look the other woman shot the bearded best friend.

"And miraculously, she's still here!" Devon called from the kitchen.

Morgan let out a tentative chuckle, pointing at the taller man. "Heh. That—Good one, Devs. Good joke. Ya jokester."

"He wasn't joking," Sarah heard Ellie mutter under her breath. "Uh, anyway! We're just...waiting for Chuck to get here."

"He isn't here?" she asked, standing up a bit straighter, looking between them all.

"No. I tried to call him but he didn't pick up. Probably on an install or something, but I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"Oh." Sarah smiled as best she could. "Yeah, of course."

"Don't worry. We'll take good care o' you, Sar," Devon said, pointing at her as he swept back into the room. "How 'bout some wine? Or are you a beer girl?"

"Wine would be fine."

"She's a poet!" he teased and she pointed and laughed a bit weakly. "Red or white?"

"Red."

As the host collected everyone else's wine order, Sarah slipped her phone out of her pocket and looked at it again. She sent Chuck another text. A quick one: _WHERE R U_

Then she stuck the phone back in her pocket and turned to thank Devon for the glass of wine he proffered.

"So! Sarah. Chuck told me you met at the Buy More," Ellie said, moving towards the kitchen and popping open the fridge.

She tried to push the unease aside as she nodded and followed the brunette, perched at the doorway into the kitchen. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, he fixed my phone. Just like—Just like that." She snapped her fingers and then sent a subtle look over her shoulder at the door again. This was bad. Where was Chuck? She checked her phone. _Message Failed to Send._

Okay, this was worse than bad…

Was there an easy way to get herself out of here so that she could try to find him? If she left, Ellie would be worried, or offended, or any number of bad things. And this cover was apparently important to the United States government. There was also the fact that these people were just nice. She didn't want to hurt this kind woman's feelings. She was Chuck's sister…

"He's always been like that. Honestly, I think he could fix anything."

"Yeah, he seems...really good at his job," Sarah said.

"He got a virus off of my laptop after my Grandma SueSue sent me one of those chain mail things," Devon said, rolling his eyes.

"I told you to stop opening your Grandma SueSue's emails," Ellie drawled.

"Okay, but the subject on this one was about Grandma's cookies. Come on."

Sarah laughed sincerely as he swept past her with a wink, a bowl filled with a mixed salad in one hand, the dressing in the other.

"Where, uh, where is that guy, anyway?" Ellie asked then, giving Morgan a very pointed look.

"What? I dunno! I got off my shift and busted ass home to change and come back. I don't screw around when your pot roast is on the menu," Morgan said, reaching out to pick up one of the cherry tomatoes from the salad and pop it in his mouth. He got a glare from Chuck's sister for that and he shrugged. "I'm hungry."

"I just thought, since you work at the same store...and...you both ended your shift at the same time…?" She widened her eyes.

"Nah, I got out fifteen minutes earlier today. I think he really did leave on an install. Jeff and Lester hate leaving the store so they probably foisted it off on him."

Sarah bristled then. "He went out on an install? Really? Like, he really did?"

The Buy More salesman furrowed his brow a bit. "Um...yeah. Saw him go out with the keys for one of the Herders and he looked pretty PO'd, if you know what I'm sayin'. Usually means a home install he doesn't wanna do."

"Do you know where it was?"

"Th-The install?" He gulped and she realized she was probably coming off a little intense. She smiled at him and pulled it back a bit, seeming to put him more at ease. "No, I don't know where."

Sarah bit her lip and nodded. "When did Casey's shift end? Th-The new guy. The new guy. Chuck, um, Chuck mentioned some new guy works there now." She tucked her hair behind her ear and sipped her wine nonchalantly. "I mean, if Chuck had this dinner to get to...couldn't he have taken the install?"

"No, Casey's in sales. He's a green shirt, not in the Nerd Herd. Anyway, he left, like, ten minutes before Chuck did. Kinda weird 'cause he seems, like, really intense about this job," he said, widening his eyes and wincing, "but he left early on just his like...second shift or something. Like a whole hour early."

Sarah moved to the back of the couch and leaned against, deep in thought, playing it off by drinking her wine as Devon and Ellie changed the subject to something else. She only half listened, nodding and smiling politely, giggling where it was appropriate.

Casey was up to something with Chuck. She just knew it. And he'd done something to Chuck's phone. She needed a plan. Or maybe she needed to stay here in case this was some sort of trap and Chuck's sister and the rest of his family were in danger.

The conversation continued, Ellie talking about being a doctor, getting through med school and wanting to emphasize her practice in neurology. And as impressive as that was, Sarah was drowning in worry. She decided she'd wait five more minutes and if Chuck didn't walk through that door…

Suddenly the door burst open behind her, and he practically staggered in as she spun to watch.

"Well! It's about time!" Morgan announced over by the table where Ellie was still setting the dishes and silverware. But that didn't matter, because she immediately saw skidmarks on his shirt, and even more alarming was the wide-eyed, startled look on his face.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed, standing immediately and facing him. She gave him a look that clearly conveyed _What the hell is going on?_ , adding a grin on top of it. "Where have you been?"

"Why?" He snuck in a bit closer to her and sent a quick glance at his people over her shoulder, as if checking on them, making sure they had all of their limbs, were in one piece. Oh, no. She had a bad feeling about this. "You, uh...you surprised to see me?"

He gave her the most bizarre attempt at a secret look she'd ever seen in her life.

"What?" _What in the hell?_

The weird freaking look on his face increased in intensity and she lost the fake smile, lowering her voice. "Where's Casey?"

"I dunno. Maybe he's having some...car trouble." The emphasis he put on _car trouble_ was there on purpose, she could tell, but she had no idea what the hell he was talking about. She wracked her brain for what that could mean...was it some sort of nerd code he was giving her? Or were her fears correct and Casey had done some expert manipulation on the…'asset'?

Chuck swept past her with an, "Everyone okay?"

And her fears were all but confirmed as she spun on her heel to watch.

"Yeah, just a little hungry, dude. You're...late," Morgan said, giving his best friend a dismayed look.

"And dirty for my tastes," Devon added. Which was a really good point. Why did he have dirt and skidmarks on his shirt. Why was the left knee of his pants a bit torn, and why was he still panting a little? What in the hell happened?

"And your girlfriend has been just nothing but mean to me," Ellie teased, putting her hands up by her head and rolling her eyes teasingly. Sarah slid a mask over her confusion and smiled along with Chuck's sister at the teasing.

"Huh?" He paused, then exclaimed, "Oh! Ha! Look out for herrrrrrrr."

That was not good. That look was bad, and the whole situation just seemed very bad. Sarah was not liking this at all.

"So! I'm glad everyone's getting along so well!" he continued, still seeming out of breath. Had he run here? Or had he raced here, thinking his family was in danger? ...In danger because of her?

"Yeah. Your sister is awesome," Sarah said with a smile, her tone a little shy as she directed as much warmth as she could muster towards Ellie.

"Indeed!" Devon drawled in a strangely deep voice, pointing at her with his alcoholic beverage.

"Hey!" Everyone in the room jumped a bit at Chuck's outburst. "Why don't we actually go _out_ , huuuh? For pizza, or somethin'?" He turned to face everyone. "Someplace public, maybe? Like, uh, with lots and lots of people around?"

Sarah gave Chuck a barely controlled look of...she didn't know what. But she was mad as much as she was confused, now. Whatever Casey had said to him had obviously made him think she'd harm his family, and that shit wasn't going to stand.

"Uh...Chuck, I've been cooking all day," Ellie said with a bit of a confused chuckle. Sarah could tell his sister was keeping up appearances, somewhat, as if this behavior of his wasn't completely bonkers. Batshit crazy, more like. There had to be a way to put a lid on this crazy, though.

"Cooking pot roast, dude…" Morgan said, obviously a little weirded out by the scene himself. "That's my _favorite_."

"Mangia mangia, let's eat!" Devon said, obviously trying to move things to the dinner table and put a lid on the crazy himself. Everyone else played along, moving towards the table, and Sarah fixed Chuck with a stare. If he wanted to be afraid of her, she'd gladly give him a God damn reason, the jerk nerd.

As she slowly moved past him, the hard look that told him he was royally screwed still on her face, she saw him pressing back against the table to get as far from her as he could, barely restrained terror in his face. In any other situation, she might enjoy this, but now she had even more work to do, and the guy she was putting a lot on the line to protect now thought she was trying to hurt him and/or his family, and she hated everything.

Chuck sat at the head of the table and she took her seat next to his, making sure to stay close in case he tried anything stupid. She could think of a few things she could do to at least shut him up for long enough until she could get him alone and talk to him, get it through his stupid thick skull that she was most likely his only ally in this whole damn mess. Hopefully, no knives were necessary, she thought with an inward roll of her eyes.

"Can I help you get anything on the table?" she asked as Ellie rushed past to grab her pot roast from the oven most likely.

"Oh, you're so sweet, Sarah! No, no. That's okay. Devon, can you grab the rolls?"

"Grabbin' the rolls! Can't forget the rolls!" the man exclaimed, jumping up from his chair across from Sarah to help his girlfriend bring the food in.

Once Ellie came in to set the pot roast on the table, Morgan looking ready to just grab the whole thing in his hands and bite into it like a gluttonous, gout-ridden king from the sixteenth century, Sarah thought she might try to ease the tension of Chuck's clinical silence and the stricken look on his face. "This looks delicious, Ellie."

"Oooh, it was nothing."

"So, Sarah!" Devon said, diverting Sarah's attention from Chuck as she turned to look at him. "Let's turn this up a notch, personal stylezzzz. Tell us somethin' about yourself."

She beamed at him and shrugged. "Uh, well...I'm originally from D.C.," she lied. Or maybe it wasn't a lie. There was an apartment there that the CIA had gotten her when she first got out of the Farm. Barely furnished, bare white walls, a small TV, a few books… Was that a home? No. Did she even really live in D.C.? Most of her life she was in planes, on trains, scaling the sides of buildings, blowing up yachts with crooked drug dealers on board… "I just moved here."

"Oh, Chuck had a friend in D.C.," Ellie said.

"Former! Former friend," Morgan said. She watched him, seeing Chuck fidget uncomfortably in her peripheral. "Because A, he was a jerk. B, well...Well, he's dead. The girl Chuck was dating before you? He stole her."

In spite of how pissed she was at Chuck currently, she almost felt bad for him as she glanced his way and saw the _Please God shut up_ narrowed eyes he was sending his best friend's way. That wasn't exactly the nicest thing to bring up with a woman your friend had just started dating, maybe… Then again, this seemed like this guy's modus operandi.

Chuck's sister made a disgusted sound. "I just don't know how _anyone_ could choose Bryce over Chuck."

That was at least a bit less embarrassing, but it also just felt...so awkward. And Chuck was blushing, looking ready to crawl out of his skin. Of course, that might be the fear as well.

The doorbell rang then and her only thought was: _What now?_

Ellie scurried over to the door and opened it.

 _Oh. Fuck._

"Hi! John Casey. Just moved into the building. Thought I might bring something over…?"

"Hi, yeah! Of course! Come in!" Ellie said. Damn the sweet woman for being so polite. This was incredibly insane, and she had a soul-deep fear that it would just get worse now that everyone was in the same mad house.

"Chuck! You didn't tell me you invited another friend."

"Hey!" the nerd said, jumping up from his seat and moving further away from Sarah, closer to the NSA agent. "Hi! Yeah, it...totally slipped my mind." He gave off a forced, nervous chuckle. "That...that my friend….John Casey...was comin' over. We work at the Buy More together. Morgan, you know John...from Buy More. I was tellin' him we were gonna have a get-together and I thought the more the merrier!"

Sarah watched closely as Casey leaned in and hissed something she couldn't exactly hear into Chuck's ear, but the look on his face told her it was most likely a threat. What...was...going...on? Chuck burst into laughter, loud, a little scary even… "You kidder…"

"Chuck? We're gonna need another chair," his sister said.

"Okie dokie!" He bustled off, then, up the step, and down the hallway, out of sight.

"You know what? I'm crashin' the party," Casey said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll—I'll get it," he chuckled, hastening after Chuck.

Morgan murmured, "Strange", then, and Sarah felt the absurdity of the moment that _Morgan_ was currently one of the more normal people in this place. Should she follow them? _Could_ she follow them without looking as insane as Chuck looked? What reason could she give? Shit. _Shit, shit._

But then Ellie clapped her hands and started after them, too. "I'm just...I probably...They won't know where the chairs are. I mean, the chair I mean, you know? So...I'll be…'kay." She rushed down the hallway and out of sight.

"This is…" Morgan murmured.

"Hey, so...uh...Sarah...about this soufflé."

She spun back to Devon, grinning at him. "Yeah! Hope it turned out okay. I've—I've heard those are hard. I-I mean, it _was_ hard. So I don't know how it is gonna taste, you know?" She shrugged shyly.

"I'm sure it's so great…" Devon grabbed his fork and held it up in excitement. "If you don't mind me trying a bit?"

Sarah laughed and shook her head. "Of course not."

Casey appeared then and she felt a bit of relief go through her. She didn't want him out of her sight for long. Devon scooted over for him, making room at the table for the new chair to be set down, and then they all sat.

Ellie showed up and folded her hands. "Okay! Let's freaking eat already, huh?"

"Yes! Jesus!" Morgan practically yelled.

Devon went in with his fork to take some of the soufflé, but they all jumped when Chuck swung in and yelled. "STOP!" Everyone stared, frozen. "We...uhh...we didn't do a toast…yet." He paused. "Which I'll do...right now."

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him in a mixture of confusion and annoyance. What in the hell was this guy playing at?

"Yeah, uuuh…" He leaned in and grabbed his glass of wine. Sarah tentatively grabbed her own as everyone else did the same...everyone completely confused, except for Ellie who looked a little like she wanted to punch her brother. Sarah sort of understood the sentiment at the moment. "So I'd like to propose a toast. To my—To my sister! To my sister and-and...and to a meal that looks so great." He let out a panted breath. "And Devon! You're great. Yeeah...And Sarah!" She turned to look up at him, an unamused look on her face. She was about done with this. Very done. "Sarah, for a great...dessert." She twisted her lips to the side and raised her eyebrow at that. "And to John Casey and-and his mini-quiches! Which are equally as great!"

She stole a quick glance at Casey and saw he was even a little confused, or maybe something was percolating in his brain. Had Chuck just communicated something to him with that weird-ass toast? She wondered…

"What about me, Chuck?" Morgan asked, his mouth full with said mini-quiches.

Without missing a beat, Ellie murmured, "For what?"

In spite of everything, Sarah found she had to hold in a soft choking sound at that.

"And to Morgan for his great comic timing!" Chuck said, holding his glass out towards his friend.

Everyone said cheers, exchanging appropriately weirded out looks, and then Sarah swung her gaze to Casey, glaring at him as he glared back. What had he poisoned Chuck's mind with? What had he said against her? It was more than obvious Chuck had picked sides now, and it wasn't her side. Damn it.

"Well, that soufflé...it really does look amazing," Ellie said, then.

"Yeah, honey. I've been resisting it this whole time and I'm just not gonna anymore," Devon said, going in with his fork again.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait! WWWWAAIT." Sarah turned a thoroughly pissed, exhausted look on Chuck at his outburst—yet another outburst—and she tilted her head. _What. The. Fuck. Now?_ "Who likes magic?!" he asked loudly, his voice cracking.

"I DOOO!" Morgan yelled, raising his hand, sending quiche crumbs everywhere.

"I know a trick!"

She'd more than had it now. "Chuuuck…?" she asked in a warning tone, a painstaking smile on her face.

He twisted his fists in the tablecloth. Ellie sucked in a quick gasp. "Chuck, what are you doing?!"

Sarah looked down at the table. Oh God, he wasn't…? He really _wasn't_.

"VOILA!" He yanked on the tablecloth, and she expected everything to go flying. Literally everything…. But everything stayed just where it was, the candleholder in the middle of the table wiggling a bit the only indication that he'd just done what...he'd done.

"How the—?" he squeaked.

"Whoa...Chuck...that was…" Devon seemed to be the first one able to find their voice…

"I knew you could do it, man!" Morgan exclaimed, and Sarah couldn't help wondering for a moment if this was a conversation these two had had before. Then again...that wouldn't surprise her at all.

There was a thump sound then and the candle finally tipped, falling right onto her soufflé she'd worked so hard on...calling someone else to buy it for her.

"Flambé!" Casey said, and she gasped, sending him an offended look. The asshole!

Chuck yelped a few times then rushed to pick it up, cradling it in the towels in his hand. Sarah pushed her chair back and stood up as he ran right out of the room with the flaming soufflé. But Ellie burst after him, calling her brother's name as she went.

They all followed after them, ending up in the bathroom where Chuck had evidently stuck her soufflé in the tub and doused it with water.

Sarah snuck in past Devon's shoulder to stand next to Ellie as the brunette leaned in closer and hissed, "Look! No matter how stressed out you are, it is never okay to murder a woman's soufflé!"

 _Yeah, that's it. That's it. This is over._

"Uh, you know what? Let me talk to him," she said, just catching herself in time to smile at his sister while she said it, playing like she wasn't about to whoop this damn nerd's ass for not trusting her. For letting some grumpy asshole NSA murderer turn him against her.

Ellie nodded and put a hand on her arm. "Okay." She sent her an apologetic look, and there was some pleading there, Sarah thought, as though Ellie was begging her not to let this freak her out, as though Ellie...liked her…? Already?

It was a nice thought, but she had to take care of this, as everyone else backed out of the bathroom to leave them alone.

Chuck's eyes latched onto someone behind her, probably Casey, and it was confirmed when he whimpered, "Casey...Cas—Casey? Don't...please don't..."

But she turned and slammed the door in Casey's face before he could come back in and save the stupid nerd. Then she spun, grabbed Chuck by his shoulders and slammed his back hard against the door, gripping his face almost a little roughly in her fingers and clenching her jaw. "Tell me what Casey said."

"Nothing, everything's okay," he muttered between smushed cheeks.

She pulled him towards her and then slammed him even harder into the door a second time. Then a third time, and she finally yanked him into the middle of the bathroom, grabbed his arm and twisted it up by his head, so that he winced, half in pain and the other half in fear. "What did he tell you?!"

"That you killed Dr. Zarnow and poisoned a bunch of French diplomats…" he whimpered.

She blinked at him, frustrated at the prick of...crap, was that hurt in her chest? That just made her even angrier and she spun him and twisted his arm behind his back this time. "You're blaming me for Zarnow?"

"If you're planning on hurting me—even to prove a point—I think you should know I have a very low threshold for pain." Interesting how willingly he'd just admitted that. But damn him. Damn. Him.

She yanked on his arm a bit harder. "And you believe _Casey_?!" Thinking she'd stabbed him in the back by taking away what could be his only way out of this whole mess and back into his normal life already sucked enough, but trusting that killing machine prick over her? What in the ever loving hell was wrong with him?

"Tell me...about...the French...diplomats…" he panted as she eased him down onto his knees, still holding his arm tight behind his back.

"They were French _assassins_. And they were after me, but I got to them first. And you know what? I'm kinda glad that I did!" she snarked. "Chuck, did you _really_ think that my name is Sarah? I never asked you to believe me, I asked you to _trust me_." Realization hit her then before she could get much further into it… "This doesn't make sense," she breathed. "If Casey didn't kill Zarnow, then…"

Zarnow was still alive.

 _Shit!_

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked when she let go of him.

"I have to go. Right now." She burst out of the bathroom and hurried down the hallway. As she emerged, she turned and waved a hand at everyone sitting gobsmacked at the table. "Uh, I'm sorry, I have to go but, uh...dinner was _wonderful_."

She grabbed her jacket and purse on her way out and rushed through the courtyard, but she heard the door behind her and Chuck's loud, "Sarah, wait!"

She had absolutely no patience for his bullshit. None. So she spun and shrugged her jacket on. "You. Stay. Inside! Do what I say!"

Spinning on her heels, she dashed out of the courtyard and hurried through the gate, heading for her car, but then a car she didn't recognize screeched to a halt, and Dr. Zarnow himself climbed out from behind the steering wheel.

He raised his gun before she could get to her knife, her arm still tangled a bit in her jacket. "CASEY!" she yelled, and she felt the darts sink into her skin. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

* * *

 **A/N:** Wooooops! Like David said, we're establishing the canon base, but already we've been manipulating a few things here and there. Props to you if you spot them. More change is on the horizon. Next chapter is coming out soon! Thanks for reading and please review since we love those so much. :)

-SC and DC


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** DC here. I'd like to address a few things, so that readers can understand where we're coming from. Was Sarah and Casey wrong in what they did in vs The Helicopter? Absolutely. Have they EVER been in this situation? No. They are used to giving orders in the field. They are used to their partners being trained. They are used to assets being sniveling cowards that are reluctant to do anything, much less think for themselves. Casey doesn't trust Sarah, Sarah doesn't trust Casey, and that's what this chapter right here points out. For you comic book fans, what happens when two superheroes meet? They fight. They ALWAYS fight. Why? They don't know and trust each other, and yep, I bring that up in this chapter written weeks ago, might I add. As for writing out what happens, could we skip over things and only write the changes? Yes, but we think it's more powerful to tell what happened and then how it affected them. Lastly, we have a plan, and I love our plan. Me, the fluffmeister general, loves it. Trust us. We won't let you down. There may be a bump in the road, but we are the two biggest Charah shippers you have ever seen. Next chapter, we're beginning to really move. Thank you for all you feedback, we love how invested you guys are! We hope you're having as much fun as we are, because it's criminal how much fun we're having.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. (sigh)

* * *

He chased her out of the house. What did she mean by the _then_? Then what? She ran off and left him before she got it out. Then it was someone else? If so, who? He came out of the doorway and yelled. "Sarah, wait!"

She was putting on her coat as she spun, but the look she gave him…yeeesh. "You stay inside." She was pointing at him like he was a bad puppy. "Do what I say." He almost dropped his head like a scolded dog. He had messed up. She had said to trust her, but she didn't ask him to believe her. Wasn't that the same thing? Apparently in her world it wasn't. He didn't understand this world, and she was his lifeline. Damn it. She was his lifeline and they had accused her of being a traitor to them, to her country. He started to chase after her and then stopped and turned to Casey.

"Do you think we were wrong?" Casey never answered because Chuck heard brakes, Sarah yell, "Casey!" And then he spun around in the direction she had run off. Casey took off in front of him and Chuck followed cautiously behind.

Casey pulled his gun. "Hey, don't move." The man slammed the trunk shut, Chuck was sure Sarah was in it. " Zarnow?"

Wha—? How was that possible Zarnow was dead? Blown up by a NDA Incinerator? That Casey said Sarah got off the black market…..Oooooh. Well played, dastardly villain, well played. It was straight out of a comic book. The good guys fight each other and then team up to take down the bad guy. Zarnow took out a gun, and shot Casey with a dart.

"Good to see you again, Agent Casey." Ooooh the dastardly villain had even said it with a dastardly villain smile. Oh, wait, Casey was shot!

Chuck turned, fear in his eyes as Zarnow sped away. "Oh, my God."

"Yep, we were wrong." And with that he collapsed into Chuck's arms.

This wasn't quite going as expected. This was going pretty badly actually. "Casey, he's got Sarah. We've gotta save her."

"Brilliant deduction, Nancy Drew." Chuck wasn't sure all of that was necessary. "Now pull out the tranq dart!"

That was a bad idea, a really bad idea. "Oh, I have a very strong aversion to needles."

"Do it!"

Well, that could have used more compassion! "Okay, uh, here we go." He pulled the needle out AND didn't pass out. "That was the doctor, right?" It had to be. Which made things very difficult. "He's probably not dead?"

"And the sun sets in the West. Nothing gets by you."

Chuck wondered if getting shot made Casey grumpy or if that was just his default setting. To be honest the only time he'd seen Casey not grumpy was thinking about shooting him and getting pancakes. "One, two, three." Chuck helped Casey to his feet. "What's he gonna do with Sarah?"

"He's gonna torture her until she tells him all about you." No. God. No. They were gonna torture her. Because he didn't trust her. She'd only asked him to do one thing, and he had failed her. She kept him safe from Casey that night. She had protected him so Zarnow hadn't seen him, for all he knew she had suggested the dating cover so she could be nearby to watch him, and he hadn't trusted her. Casey was heading for the Herder. "Come on. If we hurry, we can catch him."

Chuck jumped in the driver's seat. "All right, where are we going?"

Chuck put on his seatbelt while Casey fiddled radio. "I laced my quiches with microbots."

Chuck was stunned. He had heard of this technology. It was next gen. "You're not kidding, are you?"

Casey slowly turned toward him. "I don't kid about quiche." Ooookay, story there for a later time. "We can trace him using the car's tracker." Casey hit the power button and then several others.

Maybe that dart had more to it than your normal knock-out drug. Maybe there was something that made you crazy or even lose your mind. "Yeah, I think that only comes with the sports package."

Chuck's mouth dropped as the system came online. "We made some enhancements when your car was in the shop." Chuck watched in absolute amazement. Casey somedays acted like a complete Neanderthal, but right now he was making the system do exactly what he wanted. "Got a signal. Let's go."

Several minutes later they found themselves at the Buy More. They crept in, Casey not as well as Chuck. The big guy was obviously still feeling some of the effects of the drug. "Hey, Casey, Casey. Wait a minute. Why, why would he bring Sarah here?"

Chuck didn't like it, but Casey was still gung-ho. "I don't know. You wait here." Chuck looked around when a loud crash came from beside of him….Casey had fallen to the floor. He shook his head, popping back up to his feet just as quickly. "Damn tranq dart," he muttered. A scream got both of their attention. "Come on."

Chuck had to follow, he had no choice. He was still terrified though. "Oh, God."

They made their way to the theater room. Chuck started to go in, as Casey grabbed him. "Hey, wait, you idiot!" Casey did have a gun, and training, but Chuck wasn't feeling the effects of the dart….Casey was still probably the better choice to go first. Casey moved the curtain, saw what was in front of him, and started to lower the gun.

Chuck, intrigued, moved the curtain. "It's Morgan. He ate your quiches."

"We're on the wrong trail. Come on." They got back in the Herder and took off. They rode in silence for a bit as Casey played with the system. "I got nothing."

"What do you mean you got nothing?" Nothing, no, they couldn't have nothing. This was all his fault. He wasn't giving up... "Then what do we do?"

Casey shook his head. "It's over. She's gone."

"No, no, no, no, no. Okay, this is our fault. We didn't believe her. Now we have to save her." Chuck's mind began to run. Not the Intersect, but his brain. He was smart, he was the Piranha, he could figure this out, he just needed help, and sitting beside him was exactly who he needed. "Look, if you were a bad guy, what would you do? Fly Sarah out on a plane? Would you use a boat or a-a-a what?"

Casey was still doped up from the drug but he answered "Chopper. Small airfield near the water. The closest I could find." Okay, how would he do this in Call of Duty….? "Then do-do a satellite search using the touch screen and then maybe limit that to airfields that are within a certain range of us and then maybe limit that by if there's activity on the ground?"

Casey raised his eyebrows, impressed. "That's not bad."

WHAT? Casey had actually complimented him?! "Thanks. Yeah, I was just kind of, you know, spitballing." He was. He could do this spy stuff. He could think with the best of them.  
"Just kind of off the top of my head. I was thinking—"

"Found it," Casey cut in. "Port of Los Angeles." Casey pointed forward, gun drawn. "Floor it."

Chuck realized he was terrified again, but they had to save Sarah, especially since it was all his fault. "Okay."

They arrived at their destination, and Chuck killed the engine to the car. Casey looked around. "This is how this is gonna work. I'm gonna go over there, rescue Sarah, and capture Dr. Zarnow, shoot anybody who gets in my way." He turned to Chuck. "You, you're gonna stay here."

"So, in this plan I basically do nothing?"

Casey turned towards him. "Yep."

Chuck tried to put on his best Dirty Harry face and voice. "Let's do this." Casey got out of the car and headed towards a warehouse.

Chuck sat there for a second, the silence overwhelming. "All right, all right. Now we wait." He saw a door open off to his left and Zarnow came out of the building and shut the door as Chuck slumped down in the seat. Zarnow walked away. Casey had told him to stay in the car…..but Sarah was in there, and she needed rescuing. She needed rescuring because of him. He needed to say it out loud. That was it. "Stay in the car. Stay in the car. Do not leave the car. Do not leave this car." He glanced back at the door, reached down, unbuckled his seat belt, and headed for the door he had just seen Zarnow come out of.

}o{

Her arms felt like they were about to pop right out of their sockets, but she just clenched her teeth behind the tape over her mouth and dealt with the pain as best she could, forcing herself to remember why she was here. She was hovering over the ground, her feet a few inches from the cement, arms twisted up, behind, over her head, and she could feel Dr. Zarnow's presence nearby.

But the information he wanted, the identity of Patient X, wasn't going to come from her. He would have to kill her first.

As he lowered her back to the ground again, the sweet relief of hard ground beneath her feet, she panted through her nose, feeling the sweat pour down her face, her back, her arms. She focused on that instead of the pain shooting through her arms and shoulders. She blinked to keep the tears at bay as she fell to her knees, the chains and cuffs still attached to her wrists that were clasped behind her back.

At least Casey was with Chuck, and she had a feeling the NSA agent knew more than she did about just how valuable the Nerd Herd supervisor was. Whatever was in his head, whatever Bryce had sent him, was important enough for either of them to sacrifice their own lives to protect.

And she did tell herself, after all, that this would be her last mission.

 _No_ , she chastised herself. She'd find a way to get out of this. Just like she had the other times someone like Dr. Zarnow—who she knew fancied himself as a brilliant mastermind, the traitorous dog—had chained her up like this, tried to torture her for information on a mission or assignment.

What Zarnow didn't know was that she was a lot more than the Ice Queen misnomer he kept using while asking her to tell him who Patient X was. The mocking tone, the derision, the vitriol, the way he yanked extra hard on the chains, as if he was trying to dislocate her shoulders…

She was more than the Ice Queen, and more than Agent Sarah Walker. She was stronger than she looked. And as much as she didn't want to die, she wasn't afraid of it. Not if it meant this weasely sniveling entitled piece of shit didn't get what he want. Not if it meant he'd never know Chuck Bartowski's name or face.

Agent Walker wasn't going to be how Chuck was identified, found, and kidnapped. She wouldn't be how he ended up in some foreign adversary's hands. And she definitely wasn't going to be how he died.

"We've been at this for too long, Agent Walker," Zarnow was saying, breaking through the haze of throbbing pain. "And I don't have much time." There was a beep from his pocket and he took his phone out. "Ah...I must dash, but don't you worry, I'll be back. I'm giving you one last chance to really think about it. Is Patient X so important that he's worth your precious life?"

Yes. Absolutely.

And she glared her answer up at him, breathing hard through her nose.

With a smirk, he pulled on the chains again and left her there, dangling by her arms again. But this time, at least she could touch the ground with her toes. That alleviated the pain a bit. He must've been in too much of a hurry to care, though, because he quickly strolled out of the warehouse, the door slamming shut behind him.

She looked up, using as much of her strength as she could muster to pull at the cuffs around her wrists, squirming, trying to figure out a way to get out of them. It was probably useless, and she would have to make her escape when he took her out of the damn chains.

God, she would absolutely massacre him when she got out of these.

The door opened again and she let out a harsh breath. He was already back. She thought she'd have a bit more time.

But then she turned and looked over her shoulder.

 _Chuck?!_

Oh, God. Oh, shit. Oh, God. The unbelievable idiot. The incredibly stupid idiot.

The second he saw her, his eyes widened and he dashed around to stand in front of her. "Sarah!" he whispered, breathless. "Hey…" He took her in, concern and worry in his face. "You okay?"

Did she _look_ okay?

She snapped, "What are you doing here?" as best as she could behind the damn tape and he nodded, holding his hands up with a quick, "S'a good question. Uhhh..." He pointed to her mouth. "Should I…?" She nodded with a clear _Duh_ look on her face. "Okay."

He tore it off quick, and she wasn't sure if that was better or worse than if he'd done it slowly. Quickly, quickly was probably better, she thought as she spared a moment to wince properly at the pain. "Sorry," he panted.

"Okay. Chuck. You have to get out of here," she said in slow, clipped words, looking right into his eyes, willing him to listen to her for God damn once in his life. He was in more danger than he could possibly even begin to understand. If Zarnow found him, if he knew he was Patient X, if he knew that program thing and the secrets were in this man's head… God, she couldn't imagine how dangerous it would be for him, and for the country. The entire world, possibly.

"No, I'm here to save you!"

Oh God, the idiot. The absolutely insane… God, why was he like this? Why wasn't he a damn coward like every other asset and mark and whomever else she'd met in the last decade of doing this job? Why was he incredibly brave?

"You shouldn't even be here!" she argued, hearing the desperation in her own voice. She didn't care. "You're too valuable! And besides, I have this well in hand." She controlled herself enough to at least get that out in a measured, calm voice. She gave him a confident look.

It didn't work. "Ah hah...Yeah…'Cause it looks well in hand."

She didn't have the time to kick him in the shin for that bullshit sarcasm. And also, he was a little right…

"Okay, fine...Just find me something to pick this lock…"

Chuck finally listened to her, at least, and he was surprisingly fast as he dashed away from her and grabbed a piece of metal she could use with a, "Here. Here here…" The relief of feeling his fingers against hers for just the split second he passed the makeshift lock pick into her hand was a little startling, and she chalked it up to the numbness in her limbs after the torture she'd endured for the last half hour or so.

There was a loud bang over by the door then and she spun to look, then spun back to face Chuck. "Go. Go go go!" she rushed out, and he grabbed the tape, wincing as he gingerly put it back over her mouth, an apologetic look on his face. She raised her eyebrows and barked one more "GO!" through the tape, watching as he backed away, flailing right, left, looking for someplace to hide. _Oh, Jesus Christ, you stupid nerd, please hide!_

He finally just darted into the shadows and watched her through the slats he hid behind. She sent him a look, knowing it wouldn't do much good to project through her eyes just how much trouble he was in if they got out of this alive. But then she turned back to Zarnow as he came into the room.

"The helicopter's ready, Agent Walker," he said jauntily, in his best Villain About To Get Away With It voice. Why were they all freaking like this? Asshole wannabe Bond villains. Every time. "This is your last chance…" he drawled, dangling her freedom in front of her with his voice, giving her a smarmy look. She just glared at him making it clear again that he wasn't getting a single fucking word out of her. "We're going to a special facility where they're going to torture you. Really torture," he said in a tone that legitimately sent a horrible chill through her. She had a feeling he'd enjoy it if they got that far, and that made her feel sick inside. "Not this child's play."

He paused and she couldn't help slowly, subtly lifting her eyes over his shoulder to see if Chuck was still. Damn it, not only was he still there, he was inching to the side, around the slats, closer to them. _DO NOT. Do. NOT._

"Or you could just tell me who. Patient. X. is," Zarnow snarled through his teeth. And with that, he held up a massive needle, glee in his face. "Something for the flight…" he chirped. That wasn't anything she wanted anywhere near her...nope...no way. She tried to pull back, resisting with a grunt.

"Oh, crap!"

 _Oh. Fucking. Chuck._

She screeched "RUN!" through the tape as Zarnow spun and caught sight of Chuck at his outburst. Chuck yelped and ran in the other direction, but the doctor threw the needle, sending it sailing through the air. Sarah yelled and Chuck stopped, the needle slamming into the wall just in front of his nose.

And when Chuck turned back, he froze, his brow furrowing, his jaw dropping. His eyes twitched, his pupils wiggling back and forth, eyelids fluttering, and then he ducked his head and made a small sound of shock and pain, she thought. Then he lifted his gaze to Zarnow and his eyes widened. "I know you, I know your secret. You've been feeding American science to North Korea for years."

Oh. It was the thing again. The secrets he had in his head. How did he access them? How did he know? How…?

Sarah realized suddenly what she had in her hand. And Chuck was distracting Zarnow. She immediately got to work trying to pick the lock of her cuffs.

"Ah...Patient X." Zarnow pulled the tranq gun he'd used on her and Casey out and pointed it at Chuck. Shit, she had to work faster. This was so much worse than it had been when it was just her being tortured in this warehouse. She couldn't let this happen…

But the sweat on her fingers was making the piece of metal slip. Shit…

"To think that my secrets are in that head of yours…" There he went with the villain soliloquy again. This guy was an egotistical asshole, but at least this was buying her a bit more time. "It's an honor. Really." She looked down at Chuck again as he met her gaze, fear in his eyes. "Of course, to hell with honor. I'm here for the impressive dollar figure that you and that beautiful program in your brain will fetch."

Before she could do anything else, Zarnow pulled the trigger. She jumped, watching it sink into Chuck's chest. He looked up, betrayed for a moment as he looked at the doctor, then scared as he switched his eyes to meet hers. "Sa—Sarah…"

He slumped over then, unconscious, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, before she opened them again. She spent only a moment taking in the sight of Chuck's limp body on the ground, and she felt a rush of adrenaline and rage erupt through her body as she turned her gaze to Zarnow. He didn't know who he was dealing with, that much was clear.

But he was going to find out.

"Don't worry, Agent Walker. I'll take good care of him."

She had to watch him drag Chuck out of the warehouse. Before he'd even gotten outside, though, she was back to picking the lock of her cuffs. Once she felt the click against her wrists, she yanked one hand down, then loosened the cuff on the other.

The sound of glass shattering made her turn and look over her shoulder, and Casey stepped inside of the room. Melodramatic idiot. She ripped the tape off of her face. "Zarnow tranq'd Chuck and took him!" she snapped, reaching up to catch the gun Casey tossed towards her.

"I told him to stay in the—Aw hell! Where'd he take him?!"

She gestured with a flick of her head even as she sprinted. Casey overtook her and they burst out of the door she'd seen Zarnow take Chuck through, out onto a landing pad. The helicopter Chuck was assuredly inside of was taking off already.

Casey lifted his gun and she reached out, grabbing his shoulder. "No, Casey, they have Chuck!"

"Well, what the hell you want me to do then?" he growled. "You want the country's most valuable secrets handed to the damn Ruskies?"

"North Korea is actually more likely…" Casey made a face. "Chuck—He figured out Zarnow's been selling our science to North Korea. It was in that program with the secrets, the one in his head."

"Fuck…" Casey shook his head and spun back to the helicopter, raising his gun again.

"Casey! No! You can't! You'll kill him!"

"And North Korea won't get what he's got in his head!"

She flicked her eyes back to the helicopter as it made a wide circle above the pad and started heading in the other direction. And that was when she saw Zarnow inside, the dock lights flashing on his face as he held his hands up. Chuck...Chuck was holding a gun on him. "Wait, Casey! Casey, look!"

Casey stepped closer. "I see 'im. The hell's that kid doin'?"

She had no idea. But at least it was getting Casey to lower his gun. The helicopter turned again and she couldn't see inside of it as it moved higher into the sky, preparing to make its departure, but suddenly it lurched, jerked to the side, then the other side, and the nose pointed down.

"What's happening?" Casey muttered.

She squinted up at the helicopter, not sure what was happening as the helicopter started making wild circles, jerking up and down, swaying through the air. It was Chuck. He was...fighting? She couldn't tell. She couldn't see inside well enough. "Come on, Chuck…" she breathed.

The helicopter swerved again, heading straight for one of the towers. "No!" she yelled, watching it miraculously bump off of the tower and careen in the other direction. She let out a huff in relief and pushed a hand through her hair. She focused her eyes on the cockpit of the chopper as it swept past the lights on the nearby crane and she thought she saw a white shirt and curly hair sitting in there.

"Oh my God, Casey, I think Chuck's flying the chopper."

The wide-eyed look of _oh shit_ on Casey's face was the most she'd related to the man in the past few days. Easily. This was very bad. But at least it looked like the thing wasn't totally out of control now.

Casey grabbed his cell phone and dialed Chuck's. He lifted the phone to his ear, and a few moments later, he bellowed, "I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE CAR!"

No, that was the most she'd related to Major John Casey. That right there. The furious rage in his voice.

Then, "All right, there's a collective in the cyclic control." He paused. Oh God, this was bad. She didn't know Chuck all too well yet, but she knew he had no idea what those words meant. "One's the stick. One looks like an emergency brake. Grab 'em both." He was trying to get Chuck to land but they didn't speak the same language. And she could hear Chuck freaking out in Casey's ear. "Push the stick just a bit forward while doing the same thing with the emergency brake…" The helicopter, predictably, made a nosedive right towards the ground. "Pull up, PULL UP! Pull up on the emergency brake! Level off. LEVEL OFF!" he barked when the helicopter lurched in the wrong direction. She heard more freaking out, high pitched screaming practically. "LISTEN. MORON. DO YA WANNA DIE?!"

She shook her head, done with this bullshit. "Give me the phone, Casey!" she ordered. He gave her a weird look for a second, then passed it over. She pushed the worry and outright anger she felt towards Chuck at the moment out of her completely, settled into a calm, reassuring tone, and put her all into getting this damn nerd safely on the ground.

"Okay. Uh, Chuck? You're gonna be okay. Now I need you to focus." She wracked her brain for a way to connect to him, a way to communicate with him that he would understand. Comic books? Movies? ...Video games. That was it. "Have you ever played any flying games before?"

"Flight simulators? Flight simulators. S-Sure I've done those. Yeah."

God, he was freaking out so bad. "Okay, which ones?"

"Uh...Maverick of the Skies...Stealth Fighter Elite...Uhhh Apache Chopper Patrol…"

"Great. Okay, remember that last one," she said, keeping her eyes on the chopper, watching him in the cockpit. "I want you to pretend like you're playing that game, okay? You're just in your bedroom, you're playing a game and none of this is real." She ignored the look Casey was giving her in her peripheral, even stepping forward a bit so that she couldn't see him at all. She was getting Chuck down here in one piece because it was her job and she was damn good at her job.

"It's just a game," Chuck breathed in her ear. "Just a game. Okay...I can do this." She felt relief go through her at the thread of confidence in his voice. "I can play this game…"

But just as he said that, the helicopter swayed and was over the water. "Easy, Chuck!….Easy…" she mumbled to him.

"Uhhh…um...is this one of those helicopters that can turn into a boat?"

 _What?!_ "Nnno, it isn't. Just ease to the right and goose the brake. They designed the game exactly like the helicopter," she assured him, knowing she actually wasn't sure if that was, in fact, the case. She had no idea what the hell the game he'd mentioned was. All she could do was pray.

"I got it," he drawled. "I goooot iiiit…" He almost looked like he did have it, she thought, as the helicopter slowly shifted to the right, making its way back towards the landing area. "Almost theeere…"

"A little more to the right," she coached.

"Easing right, easing right, goose the brake, it's just a game," he chanted. She watched closely, her heart in her throat. "A big, scary video game…"

The helicopter lowered….down, down...slowly...and it landed, skidding a bit, but then it stopped. God, it stopped. She listened to Chuck's manic, relieved laughter, the phone still at her ear as she felt the anger start to rush back into her as she watched him climb out of the cockpit and stumble back onto the ground.

She lowered the phone as he did a stupid dance and exclaimed, "And that! Is how! I do! That!"

Casey swept into action immediately, lifting his gun and rushing over to the chopper to secure the scene. Good. She would deal with the damn _asset_.

As he neared her, still celebrating, completely clueless, he must've noticed the fury on her face, because he amended, "Okay, okay, that's how _we_ do that. Up top, Sarah! Palms are a little sweaty, but..." He lifted his hand for a high five.

And the rage spilled over like a dam broke inside of her. "What the hell were you thinking?!" she yelled.

"Clammy hands, got it, no good…" He lowered his arm to his side, suddenly pale.

"Chuck! The secrets that you know are incredibly important! You compromised everything when you stopped trusting me!" She inwardly pulled back a bit at that. Because his shit with following her into the warehouse was worse than him being manipulated by Casey, it was just foolishly reckless…

"And when you got out of the car!" Casey broke in.

Sarah just glowered at him, even when he seemed to pull back into himself, the gravity of the situation seeming to finally dawn on him a bit. "Listen, I'm...I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, it is _not_ okay!" she yelled. And even Casey seemed a bit speechless. She didn't care. She wasn't letting him off the hook. "How could you think I was the double, huh?" He looked stricken. She still didn't care. "You know I am not Bryce. Bryce betrayed everything I believe in, and if you ever accuse me of that again, then I will walk away. Mission over. We all go back to Washington." She forced herself to ignore the way her voice broke when she mentioned Bryce's betrayal, to not take so much notice of the deflated, upset look on Chuck's face as he dropped his chin to his chest in shame. She waited for him to lift his eyes back to hers before she continued, the final blow, the one thing she wanted to pound into his head above all else. "And you do not want that to happen, Chuck. That, you should trust me on."

She turned on her heel and walked away from him, not even looking back once.

* * *

 **A/N:** DC here. Okay, guys, next chapter...Trust Us. This is what you've been waiting for. Now, it's not a DC fluffity (is that a word, SC?) (IT IS NOW! -SC) piece, but….but things happen, and more things are gonna happen. It's still ep 2.

SC here. TRUST! US! Stick around for the next chapter and the chapters after that because TRUST US. Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** DC here….*grins evilly* You know what? Just enjoy.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck or its characters.

* * *

He'd found his dad's suit at the back of his closet, trapped in a white plastic bag tied at the bottom, on a wooden hanger that was shoved behind everything else he never wore. It was the only suit he had because what kind of a Buy More employee could actually afford to buy a suit? Not to mention the ones he'd worn at Stanford to various important functions...Well, he'd sold those for video games and comics, and another one had gone into purchasing Comic-Con badges. But that was neither here nor there.

The suit was a little bit baggy in the shoulders, which was kind of demoralizing. On top of how demoralized he already felt, and had felt, since a few nights ago. He'd somehow screwed up everything more than it was already screwed up. And he'd managed to alienate the government agents who were supposed to be sticking close, protecting him.

He hadn't seen Sarah since that night, at least, not up close. She hadn't been at the Wienerlicious yesterday the two times he'd gone to talk to her, and when he'd tried to ask Casey about it at work, the NSA agent's only response was to laugh at him—as much as the man could laugh—and say, "Oh, what? She hurt your feelings, moron?"

And while, yes, Sarah had hurt his feelings a bit, Casey's response hadn't exactly been a balm.

So he'd just stayed back today, on this, the day of Bryce Larkin's funeral. _Agent_ Bryce Larkin, because that was a thing.

Also a thing? An apparent database of government top secret _shit_ crowding his brain that was triggered by...he still didn't know what. That nobody was actually explaining to him, in spite of it being in his head, and in spite of some turncoat mad scientist trying to kidnap him for it.

And now he was wearing an old suit of his dad's and having a stupidly difficult time with this damn tie, getting ready to go to the funeral of the man who'd put those secrets into his head, and for all Chuck knew, had changed his life irrecoverably. In the worst way.

This time, though, he did try to stem the self-pity. Because first of all, it got him nothing and nowhere. Secondly, he'd royally messed up. Part of him wanted to say Casey took some of the blame for his loss in trust with Sarah. But he knew it was his own fault. She'd asked him to trust her, and she'd given him no reason not to, that strange flash of information and images he'd gotten in which he'd seen her murder people aside. _She_ had never given him any reason not to trust her. She'd saved his life. And this had to be the thirtieth time he'd had to remind himself of that, and that just wasn't right.

"Dad's suit?"

He finished tying his tie and smiled a little to himself at his sister's voice, fixing his hair and turning to look at her. "Yeah." He scoffed a bit. "It's my only one."

She walked further into the room and crossed her arms, tilting her head as she smiled. "I'm quite certain he wouldn't mind, though."

He just ducked his head and nodded, his smile dimming a bit. She closed the distance and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "You mind if I ask you something?" He glanced at her, raising his eyebrows. "Why you doing this? Going to Bryce's funeral...after...everything?"

"Uh...I guess we were...buddies. Friends. Once. Close friends. Best, best friends." He shrugged. "And I guess...with everything he did to me…" And Ellie didn't know the half of it. She couldn't know. If she did know, her life would be in danger. "I just wanna make sure that someone's there, you know? Someone...um...someone real."

Ellie looked a little confused by that, but he couldn't explain. She couldn't know Bryce was a CIA agent. Now that he knew he was in the CIA, now that he'd seen some of the agency in action, and because he'd seen enough movies, Chuck could just tell that the blurb in the paper about Bryce's death had been fabricated by people who knew the agent, who didn't want anyone else knowing he was an agent...people who hadn't known him. And he wondered if the people at the funeral would be other agents, or paid actors…? He was making unfair assumptions about the CIA, maybe, and about Bryce.

But he still felt like someone who knew him back before the CIA stuff should be there. The guy who'd attacked the nasty troll with the nasty knife at his side. Or whatever. And the water balloon fight they'd had that nearly got them banned from Stanford's on-campus church.

Chuck decided to focus on that while he got ready to see the guy off. Even if he had ruined his life three times over. And in only 5 years. That had to be a record.

He fought the gloomy look off of his face and smiled at Ellie as she squeezed his shoulder. "You know something, Chuck?"

"What?" he asked teasingly.

"You deserve so much. The best. Definitely better than what you ever got from him, from... _her_ ," she growled with a dark frown, "from a lot of things. From, um, from our parents."

Chuck furrowed his brow. "Hey, where'd that come from, sis?" he asked with a bit of a chuckle, sufficiently heart-warmed.

"Nowhere special." He snorted at that. "You're just being an exceptional person today and I guess I'm proud of ya."

"Thanks." He cupped her elbow and squeezed. He turned back to the mirror and tried to fix another errant curl falling over his forehead.

"Chuck, you realize that you don't have to go to Bryce's funeral?" she said, seeming to feel the need to reiterate that for him, just in case.

"Yeah, I know. I realize." He gave her a sad smile. "I sorta want to. Closure, maybe? I don't know. Or maybe it's just the right thing to do." He shrugged. "Even if he did get me kicked outta school and steal my girlfriend."

"Well…" She made a bit of a face, almost as if she wasn't sure she should say it. "You've moved on to bigger and better girls." Chuck felt a pang in his chest and he winced. She must've seen it because she moved to put both hands on his shoulders. "I know, I know. With the other night...Well, that didn't go the way I wanted it to."

"Uh, yeah...me, neither," he said, bobbing his eyebrows and puffing his cheeks out. Nearly dying in a helicopter crash, getting kidnapped and sold to the highest bidder for whatever the secrets were in his head… But oh right, Sarah, his cover girlfriend, seemingly pissed off at him. That, too. And that was obviously what Ellie meant.

"Hey, but listen. I _really_ like Sarah, Chuck. I mean, I didn't get to have any quality time with the woman the other night, but I mean, she showed up with a soufflé, first of all. Which is so fancy and awesome—"

Chuck widened his eyes and pointed at her. "Ah!"

"Don't. Don't tell him I used that word." They chuckled together. "No, really, Chuck," she said, crossing her arms again. "She seems so nice. And God, she is gorgeous. That's not super important obviously, but dear God it helps."

Chuck laughed outright.

"I hope you guys work things out," she said when he sobered up a bit, fixing him with that sincere green-eyed look of hers that got him through a lot of shit in his twenty-six years of life, especially the last ten. "Preferably before the next dinner party," she said hopefully.

Chuck huffed and dropped his chin to his chest, sticking his hands in his pockets. There was a good chance he'd blown any goodwill between himself and Sarah the other day, when he chose not to trust her, when he all but accused her of being a traitor to her job, her country...to him. But she was most likely still charged with his safety, and with the way the director of the CIA guy and the general woman had seemed like they weren't great at listening to their operatives, he doubted the cover dating thing was going to stop.

But Ellie didn't know that. Ellie didn't know Sarah was stuck here. Stuck with him. And he felt an ache at the thought of Sarah thinking that. That she was _stuck_ with him. That hurt worse than he wanted it to.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. He walked past her and picked up the suit jacket. "I don't know, sis. I think I blew it."

"Well, what happened?"

He couldn't tell his sister that the CIA agent had asked him to trust her after he'd defused a bomb using the weird government secrets thing in his brain, and that'd he'd betrayed that trust, suspected the worst of her, and had nearly gotten them all killed in the meantime.

But what he could tell her was…

"I don't know. She is...great, you know? And I've got all these issues. Everything that's happened. Mom, Dad, Bryce, Jill...I've got this new girl in my life who is so great and it's hard for me to...believe it." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not making any sense. She asked me to trust her and I didn't. I didn't trust her, I freaked out, acted like a total jackass, and I think it...hurt her."

That last part felt right, even though he was ninety-nine percent sure it wasn't true. She hadn't been hurt. She'd have to have some sort of personal attachment for that to be the case. But Sarah was a good agent. An amazing agent. And she'd already saved his life in the last few days more times than he could count probably. Because she had a job to do. And he'd made her job so damn hard two days ago, when he chose not to trust her anymore. He'd made her job so much harder than it needed to be. He felt terrible. She'd been tortured for him. God.

He suddenly felt a little woozy.

"Yeah, you really lost your mind a bit there, brother." She winced. "It was...hard to watch."

"I'm sure."

"But listen...Like I said, I really don't know her. But what I saw of her, she seems so great. Really. And I bet she's going to listen if you apologize." He gave her a narrowed-eyed, doubtful look. "Just apologize," she repeated. "An apology can really go a long way. Right? Remember when Devon spilled muscle milk all over the backseat of my car? That was when we'd first started dating. He apologized. And also paid for like...three car details in a row."

They laughed together. "Listen to me. You've got nothin' to lose. And I dunno, don't you think a girl like that is worth it?"

Chuck smiled. He was pretty sure she was. But more importantly than that, she deserved an apology. A sincere one.

"Sarah's special. She's different from your Stanford friends." She stepped in and tightened his tie a bit, fixing it, smoothing the collar of the button-up over it.

"Yeah….yeah." He smiled again and leaned in to kiss Ellie on the forehead. "Thanks, sis. I better get goin', huh? Love ya."

"Love you, too. And think about what I said."

He just nodded with a smile over his shoulder. He didn't have to think about it. He knew what he was going to have to do. But first, he had to pay respects to someone. Because he supposed everyone deserved some semblance of forgiveness, or at least, he thought...maybe someday, he'd get to a point where he could offer Bryce his. Maybe someday.

}o{

He stood in the back, off to the right, with a tree behind him. For some reason that comforted him, to have something at his back. He looked over the small gathering, probably all CIA agents, and realized Sarah wasn't there. He looked over to his left and saw her. She was by herself, and there was sorrow on her face. Chuck realized why he needed the tree against his back. It was because his bodyguard wasn't there right now, and frankly, he couldn't blame her.

He knew how betrayal felt. He knew how trusting someone and having them turn on you felt. He thought about the games he and Bryce played with the nerf guns in the Stanford library. He thought about the Quad and how they met. He thought about Bryce introducing himself to Jill. He thought about how much it hurt and how HUMILIATED he felt having to leave Stanford because of Bryce. He glanced at Sarah's face, and while the mask was still in place, he saw a mirrored reflection of how he had felt then.

She began to look around and Chuck kept watching her. He needed to be supportive. He understood what she was going through. He was, after all, the one who had offered to be a baggage handler, and he hadn't done the best job so far. She turned and they locked eyes. The look on her face didn't change. The hurt didn't leave, the betrayal. He began to raise his hand to wave in case she didn't see him, but she turned away. Tears began to fall down her face. Why…?

As he looked back at the coffin and saw his friend being laid to rest, a realization slammed into his chest that nearly knocked him over. This was his fault. This, right here, right now, was on Chuck Bartowski. He didn't trust Sarah, true, he didn't know all the facts, but that was part of trusting someone. For all Bryce did, getting him kicked out of college, sleeping with Jill, sending him the Intersect, Chuck's major problem right this second had nothing to do with Bryce. Chuck hadn't trusted Sarah, the person who kept him alive. Sure it was her job, but so was being a police officer, a firefighter, or any other profession that required you to put your life on the line for someone you didn't know.

A second realization hit him and he felt shame like he never had before. Sarah had been betrayed by two people….Bryce and Chuck. He had accused her of going rogue. Chuck didn't know how many people she had in her life but with the kind of life she had, it couldn't be many. He had made her job harder, physically. He had made her job harder, emotionally. He told her he could be her baggage handler, and he had not done a good job. If anything he had added to the weight.

She turned and left quickly. Chuck watched her go, ashamed of himself. He always prided himself in being the good guy. He knew he hadn't been in this entire situation. All she had asked him to do was trust her. She had his back; she had told him that on the beach. All he had to do was trust her, and he didn't. He had hurt her. With a determined look on his face, he made a vow to himself. Sarah was trying to do her job. THIS wasn't her fault. None of it was. Chuck Bartowski caused this mess, and Chuck Bartowski had to fix it. It was the absolute least he could do.

}o{

Sarah set down her hairdryer, unplugged it, and left it on the sink, not caring enough to put it away at the moment. What she really wanted to do was crawl inside of her bed even though the sun had only just barely gone down, throw her sheets over her head, and stay there until she was absolutely forced to emerge to save the country.

She fluffed her newly dried hair after what had been a long, hot shower—a shower she'd used to let herself grieve over the life of someone who'd been a big enough part of her own life, as a partner and as someone she'd formed a bond with, even if the crux of it was physical.

Bryce Larkin, Agent Larkin of the CIA, hadn't been her rock. He hadn't been her tether to humanity, or the thing that had kept her grounded. They'd shared nothing personal. He knew nothing about her, save what he'd witnessed during missions. And she knew nothing about him. He'd never mentioned Stanford, he'd never mentioned Chuck, or anyone else, really. She didn't know he was from Connecticut, even, like Chuck had told her on the rooftop that first night.

And she's definitely never told him even a single thing about herself. Not one thing that wasn't in the heavily redacted file he was given on her when they were first paired up for field work.

But they'd worked together long enough that the betrayal had hurt. The lack of trust had hurt. The fact that he could have potentially dragged her own reputation with the agency into it because she was her partner. She knew she was lucky she wasn't pegged by the CIA as a co-conspirator. He could have ruined her life with his treachery. And when Graham told her Bryce had died, that had felt even worse. Because she'd cared. Of course she'd cared.

She hated him now. Like she told Chuck, he betrayed everything she believed in. And he'd pulled the wool over her eyes—nothing pissed her off worse than that.

But seeing that smattering of CIA agents who'd been tasked with going to the funeral, being appropriately somber, if only to give the appearance of normalcy to the life of a man who'd cut himself off from the civilian world, as most of them ended up doing...God, she felt sick inside. And maybe it was self-indulgence, but she couldn't help thinking there'd be a time when the CIA set something up for her like that.

People she never knew, people who'd been called away from their nearby posts for a few hours to sit and pretend to mourn her. They'd call her...a businesswoman or a real estate agent. They'd bury a casket, empty or otherwise, depending on the situation of her death. And she'd disappear.

She'd caught sight of Chuck right as she'd been thinking that, too. The cold, dark fear of dying alone and just disappearing like she'd never existed in the first place, leaving absolutely no mark on anyone or anything, no mark in the world, the way Bryce had just done, was crashing through her just as she spotted him leaning against a tree off in the distance, away from the actual funeral...just like her.

As Sarah plopped onto her bed and scooted back against the headboard, she thought about the look on his face again. And she actually let herself think about the fact that he was there in the first place. He'd been surprised to see her, just as she'd been surprised to see him. They'd both been betrayed, hadn't they? In different ways. And yet, Chuck had shown up to the funeral. Who had told him about it? How'd he find out? The paper, maybe. And then he'd donned a suit, made himself look respectable, and showed up.

Sarah bit her lip as she realized something. She didn't know what she believed about Heaven, Hell, the afterlife in general. And who knew if Bryce Larkin—wherever he ended up—would even know what kind of a send-off he'd gotten? But there was something real there in the midst of the fake tears and empty grief of the attendees sitting in the chairs. Someone real. Someone who'd known Bryce before, in college. Someone who had known real things about him. Bryce had made a mark on at least one person. Granted, she wasn't sure if the mark he'd made on Chuck Bartowski was strong enough to counteract the email he sent him the other day. Because, as much as she was willing to do whatever she could to protect Chuck and try to help him get back to his normal life, there was a good chance the damage Bryce had done to Chuck's existence was irreparable.

And yet Chuck stood there. Why? She really didn't know. And she wasn't about to let him see her like that, with tears pooling in her eyes—whether for Bryce or for herself, it didn't matter—so she turned on her heel and left quickly, ignoring his attempt at a wave.

Part of her felt a little bad, but he'd made her change her mind about him with his behavior the other day. She still couldn't let herself forget how hard all of this must be for him. He hadn't asked to have those secrets sent to him, somehow implanted in his brain by whatever those images Zarnow had shown him were. He hadn't asked for her to show up out of the blue, ask him out on a date, and promptly rock his entire world in the worst possible way with the admission that she was a CIA agent. If he knew even the half of why she was there, what Graham had hinted at happening to him if she hadn't acted as quickly as she had on his behalf...God, the poor guy.

And yet...in spite of this being overwhelming, in spite of whatever he had in his head, he didn't get an excuse for acting like a complete jackass. He'd proven to her that he was like any other mark and asset—and she'd been so quick to put him on some kind of a pedestal because of how he'd come off those first few meetings, and then the date. Unassuming, sweet, thoughtful, kind, funny, self-deprecating. And she was sure he was all of those things.

But he had shown her beyond all doubt that he not only didn't take her seriously as an agent, as his protector and handler, but that he also didn't have much respect for her. All Casey had to do was tell him a lie about her murdering French diplomats, gently steer him with the fact that NSA incinerators were available on the black market, and he'd dropped any and all pretenses that he actually trusted her. Like it was a hot potato.

What did he expect, for her to sit down with him and give him her whole life story before he could trust her? You didn't do that with accountants before entrusting them with all of your finances, even. And she worked for the CIA! Her damn director didn't know her whole life story. Her damn parents didn't know. She was willfully foggy about her _own_ life in places, for God's sake.

Did he need her to fucking notarize a statement for him? Did the director himself have to sit down and vouch for her?

She'd gone above and beyond, more than she was willing to admit to her own damn boss, to keep this guy safe, to keep him from being separated from his family and tossed in a windowless bunker where he'd never see the light of day again. She'd saved his life, nearly been shot, run over by an SUV… She'd been tortured by a middle-school caricature of a Bond villain, subjected to an incredibly embarrassing scene at Chuck's hands in front of his family and friends… And in spite of all of that, she was still here in this damn hotel room, prepared to continue doing her job, protecting him, keeping him safe from the harm that seemed to be crashing towards him from all angles. She didn't _have_ to be here. Like Casey said, they could just toss this nerd in a bunker, leave him there to rot, and go on with their lives.

But she wasn't going to let that happen. Ever. In spite of him being incredibly stupid and suspecting her of being a rogue agent, someone who meant him and _his family_ harm. He didn't deserve a windowless life, without sunlight, without his people. His soul would die in there. She wasn't letting this man's soul die. She'd seen too many souls die, including her own most likely, to let it happen to him.

Sarah knew she'd been foolish. She'd given him too much credit at the start. She'd let his softness make her think he was better than everyone else. And he was still better than a lot of people, she was sure. He was worth protecting because he was a human being who didn't ask for any of this. But she was done suffering with a mixture of empathy and awe over _just how good he was_.

That show he'd put on after he'd climbed out of the helicopter, being a goofball, dancing in celebration, trying to high five her. He took none of this as seriously as he should, and it pissed her off, because she'd taken _him_ so seriously. She'd given him respect. She'd given him kindness without infantilizing him or dehumanizing him the way her superiors and Casey had.

And he'd repaid her with that bullshit the other day. It had rubbed her in the wrongest way to see him celebrating after he'd barely survived, thanks to his inability to trust her, to fucking just _listen_ when the professionals told him to do something, damn it.

Yes, he was just like the rest of the marks and assets. He didn't deserve the crap he was dealing with, but she didn't deserve the way he dropped any semblance of trust and respect she'd thought he'd had in her. Not with her actions the past few days. Whatever she'd done before that, anything he might have found out about what she'd done for the job before, anything Casey might have lied about to her, didn't matter. She'd saved his damn life more than once.

Not that he really knew the strings she'd pulled with Graham and the NSA to keep him out of a bunker. She had to grant him that. The guy was flying blind, worse than she was. And she was pretty scarily blind in this, so that was saying something.

All of that aside, it was kindness that had led him to attend Bryce's funeral. She couldn't possibly know the depths behind his decision to see his old college friend off, but she had to assume he was there because he was kind. And that made her chest ache a bit. Was it a good ache or a bad ache? She didn't know.

Either way, she found herself hoping she'd warrant that show of kindness from someone, somewhere, if she ended up being killed in the line of duty. A non-CIA person who saw past any harm she might've done them, hurt she'd caused them, to be kind and stand there to make sure there was at least something _real_ at her send-off.

She needed to reel herself back with this guy, though. That much was evident. It was too easy to let his inherent goodness make her see him as perfect.

The CIA agent had let her walls crumble and she'd attributed too much to him. He was immature, foolish, and incapable of seeing how dangerous all of this was. He'd trusted someone who regularly called him a moron and dismissed his comments and emotions...over someone who'd shown him nothing but kindness and patience. And why? Was it because she was a woman? She didn't want to jump to that conclusion right off the bat. But it had happened often enough in her line of work—constantly being underestimated, not taken seriously, because she was a woman, because of how she looked.

No, it wasn't that. Chuck was many things, but he wasn't that type of a guy. She knew. She thought maybe Zarnow had just done a good enough job pitting Casey and her against one another, and Chuck had fallen into the trap hook, line, and sinker. It didn't excuse his stupidity. And his inability to listen to Casey's commands apparently had to be considered as well. Casey'd apparently told him to stay in the car, as the agent told her later. After Chuck had helped him figure out how to potentially track her down. He'd told her that part a bit begrudgingly, she thought. And maybe being able to figure that out had put some sense of self-indulgent ego into the nerd who undoubtedly watched a lot of TV and movies about spies. So that when he'd been sitting there next to the NSA agent, hearing him say "Stay in the car" hadn't registered. The stupid hero had to get out of the car and rescue her. What actually resulted was that he'd nearly been kidnapped and sold to North Korea, and then he'd nearly died after that.

He was a child in a grown man's body.

She was going to have even more on her hands than she'd thought. And this all just sucked so much worse than she'd feared it would a few days ago when this job first started.

Having to deal with Casey's volatility—towards her and towards Chuck—on top of having to deal with her asset's inability to see the seriousness and danger of his situation, his inability to freaking trust that she knew what she was doing, that she could and would protect him with her life if she had to? God, this was the worst possible operation she could imagine.

And she'd thought it'd be such a cinch.

She'd just been to his damn funeral and her heart still hurt at the thought that Agent Bryce Larkin was dead, but she couldn't help sending him the biggest middle finger. She directed it both upwards, and downwards, just in case, before flopping over to the side and muffling a frustrated groan into her duvet.

That was when she heard the staccato knock on her door.

She lifted her head and looked at it, frowning deeply. And then she slowly climbed up from her bed and grabbed her robe she'd draped over the end of the bed, shrugging it on and tying it shut.

Swiping her trusted gun from the nightstand, she slinked over to the door and stood there silently, listening to whomever it was shuffle their feet. And then…

"Sarah?" she heard muffled through the door. She knew it was him immediately. "Sarah, it's Chuck. I—"

She whipped open the door and furrowed her brow in confusion at him as he stared at her, wide-eyed, and blinked. "Chuck...What are you doing here? What happened?" She grabbed him by the lapel of his suit and pulled him into the room, slamming the door shut and throwing the locks. "Are you being followed? Where's Casey? Isn't he supposed to be watching you right now?"

"I'm not a five year old," he said with a shrug. "I don't really need him breathing in that bullish way of his down my neck every moment of my life. And technically, aren't you _both_ supposed to be keeping me safe?"

That earned him the flattest look she was capable of. "What are you doing here?" she repeated. "Are you in trouble? Danger? Someone following you?"

"Not directly, at this moment. No one is following me. No. No, I just came here because...Sarah, I really have to talk to you. Seriously. Gloves off."

She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. "Oh... Well… Don't need this then." She raised the gun between them and wiggled it, watching him pale a bit. She went and put it back in the nightstand drawer. "Chuck, I really said everything I needed to say to you the other night."

"No, I know." He swallowed so hard she heard it from across the room. "But I have plenty that I need to say. And the first thing I need to say before anything else is that I apologize."

Sarah turned to face him and blinked. Then she crossed her arms at her chest and watched him closely as he played with his fingers, shoulders a bit slumped, shame on his face. She knew he was only twenty-six years old, but God, the way he looked at this moment, he almost resembled a little boy who'd been chastised by a teacher he respected.

He took a few steps closer.

"In just one day, I-I managed to make, like, five billion mistakes. Which is...kind of a record for me." He huffed in amusement, darting his eyes down to his feet and shrugging. "I misstepped, I freaked out, I overreacted, misunderstood—maybe on purpose, I dunno, I—I dunno. This has all been a lot in such a…" He huffed. "Such a short amount of time. I went, like, five years with absolutely nothing happening in my life. Same shit day in, day out. Not that I'm complaining. Not now anyway. If I could go back to that, I dunno, I think it'd be pretty great. But I can't. I can't go back to that."

She could see him working through it all in his head, but then it was also tumbling out of his mouth at the same time, which was...She'd never met anyone like him before. He was so...different.

"And then suddenly—WHAM. You know? An email with government secrets. Somehow they're-they're in my head. And I can see...files and info and weird shit I don't-I don't want to see. I know things I don't want to know. A beautiful woman asks me out on a date, I find out she's actually a CIA agent who's been sent here to watch my ass—" He froze, thrusting his hand out. "Not. Not literally. I didn't mean that—Oh my God, shut up, Chuck."

Sarah couldn't stop the quiet snort, raising her eyebrows. Wow.

"No. God. Um...It's just all been a lot. And I'm not saying that to excuse my behavior, my actions. I was a complete jackass the other day, Sarah. A total and complete jackass. And I'm sorry. Really."

She blinked again, not really knowing what to say to that. Thank you? She supposed she at least appreciated his self-awareness after the fact. And his apology.

"But that's not it. That's not all I want to say." He closed the distance and stood right in front of her. He held his hands out in front of him, not to touch her, like she was afraid he might. But she noticed it was just a thing he did with his hands… And it somehow set her at ease a little bit.

"What else did you come here to say, Chuck?" She raised her eyebrows and posed like she was waiting, lifting her chin, tilting her head.

"How do I say this?" he asked, licking his lips and looking down at his feet for a moment, before he lifted his gaze back up, looking her squarely in the face, his eyes meeting hers steadily. "None of this has seemed...like real life the past few days. What happened to me with Bryce sending me the email, the secrets in my head. God, even getting asked out by a woman like you felt like—I felt like I was in some dream or something. And I think it was all so overwhelming and so...just...out of this world crazy, hard to believe, that a large part of me maybe just...didn't...believe it." He rolled his eyes at himself and looked up at the ceiling, as if asking some higher power for strength. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, lowering his head again. "The car chase and the death defying stuff that happened and-and you. You being a CIA agent. Having the CIA and the NSA send their best to protect me because I have—I dunno, some government supercomputer in my brain? Whatever the hell this is, 'cause I still don't know."

Chuck sighed and took a few steps back, scratching the back of his head. "Like you said when I was in that chopper, and you were trying to talk me through landing without freaking killing myself...It all felt like a movie or a-a video game. Like I've been in some spy simulator. Or something."

"It isn't a movie. Or a video game," she said, squeezing her arms under her hands and giving him a steady look back.

"You're right. It isn't. I know that now. I wasn't taking any of this as seriously as I should've been. The danger. So much danger." He looked pained at that. "I mean, not that I wasn't terrified through...well, all of it. I've been immature. And yeah, all of this was probably a bit too much for me to handle, but that's what you're here for. And I guess Casey too, even if he is kind of a butthead."

She swallowed a giggle, twisting her lips to the side. "What are you getting at, Chuck?"

Chuck just stared at her for a moment, and then he straightened his shoulders, looking much taller than she thought she'd ever seen him before suddenly. She'd known he was tall, but… How many inches did the slouching shoulders (she suspected from his lack of self-esteem) take away?

"You told me to trust you that morning on the beach. And at that moment, it didn't feel like that big of an ask. It seemed easy enough to agree to that at the time, you know? Because I'd just defused a bomb with a porn virus and everything was up in the air and I was afraid and confused. And you were right there sitting next to me, and that date up until the whole NSA agent trying to kill me with the large sports utility vehicle thing happened was legitimately great. You-You seemed legitimately great, in spite of the stuff that happened after I found out you were CIA—not that you didn't save my life, 'cause you did." He growled a bit at himself, tugging at his ear in frustration.

"Chuck, look…" She smiled a little to set him at ease. "It's okay. I appreciate the apology. You don't have to…"

"I do, though, Sarah. I need you to know that I do trust you. When we were out there on that beach, I was floundering. I was flailing for something to grab onto. Someone. And for twenty-five plus years, that was always Ellie. Ellie's always been that one person I could grab onto to keep me afloat, the one person I could count on. But I couldn't do that this time. I-I can't. Not with this. Because she can't know about it. So when you asked me to trust you, of course I agreed. I was totally lost...and I needed...something."

So she hadn't expected that. At all. And she felt herself suck in a silent breath, lowering her arms to her sides again. She felt like an invisible train had just slammed into her head-on and she didn't quite know what to do about it, except just stare at him.

"And when things started going...wonky, I guess...with Zarnow being murdered, or I guess fake-murdered, since he ended up being a fucking asshole turncoat—" Accurate description, she thought. "—who faked his own death, I started getting confused. And that whole thing with trusting you sort of—I slipped. I dropped the ball. I lost my footing. I stopped trusting you. Because that's-that's what I do. It's something I always manage to do 'cause I'm such an idiot. I guess I just trust people—the wrong people—and then I get burned. And I thought I'd done it again. Or I guess, the problem was that I'd not taken this or you seriously enough to even trust you properly in the first place. I don't know which it was. I don't. Either way, I was in the wrong. Completely." He looked her right in her face. "I should've trusted you fully in the beginning, because you saved my life. And you haven't stopped saving my life since then, Agent Walker. I had no reason to stop trusting you, no matter what weird shit I saw with the secret flashy thingy in my brain, no matter what seeds of doubt Casey tried to plant in my brain…"

Sarah watched as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. She gave him the time, not interrupting or prompting him. Because it gave her the time to let his words settle in her mind. The meaning in them.

 _Either way, I was in the wrong. Completely._

When was the last time she'd ever heard someone say that? Let alone to her? When had she even apologized like that? The act of even admitting he was wrong, but then doing it with so much sincerity and honesty that she was almost finding it hard to breathe.

He was currently entrusting her with full honesty, complete candidness, even opening himself to her, showing his vulnerability… And she didn't think there was anything he could do that would better prove he trusted her than that.

"I don't understand what's happening to me," he continued quietly. "It's...scary. I'm scared." He swallowed thickly. "I had someone in you who was going to bat for me. And I just...have this sneaking suspicion, from the way the director, Director...er…"

"Graham," she breathed.

"Graham, right. Director Graham and General NSA Red-haired Woman…"

"Beckman."

"That's it." She felt herself smiling a bit. "The way they spoke to me—or I guess, they spoke over me, about me, like I was an inanimate object. When I was standin' right there in front of 'em. And I have this feeling like neither of them...care much...what happens to me. They care about these…" He tapped his temple. And then he shrugged, meeting her eyes again. "I'm not saying I expect you to, like, care a whole lot about me. And I'm not saying that as a judgment on you. I'm sure your job has required you to protect a lot of people." She nodded mutely. "But from the very beginning, you've seen me as a person instead of as an unwilling vessel for government secrets. And you've had my back." He huffed, shaking his head. "I should've had yours, Agent Walker." He looked at her more closely. "Sarah."

She felt her eyes widen. Her expectations, her realizations, theories, character analysis, assumptions, conclusions...all of it was crashing down around her ears in the face of complete candidness. God, he was so genuine.

"Bryce betrayed his country. He betrayed all of us. He, um...in spite of the shitty stuff he did to me personally, that just never seemed like something that was even remotely in the realm of possibility. I mean, betraying the United States of America, being a rogue spy… It's hard to imagine anybody being capable of that." He tugged a bit awkwardly on the end of his suit jacket. "I'm so sorry that it was easy for me to suspect you were. I'm sorry I let everything pile up and terrify me enough that I lost my faith in you. And-And if you stick around the way I'm pretty sure you might, uh, _have to_ ," he winced with that hint of almost humor in his brown eyes and she gave him a bit of an amused side-eye in response, "I promise to _actually_ trust you this time. Not just because I'm scared and freakin' out a little with all of this, not just because I'm lost and confused and floundering—and trust me, I am all those things at once...Nah, I'm gonna trust you because you deserve my trust."

She nibbled on her lip and finally nodded slowly. Then she waited for him to meet her gaze and she lowered her chin, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "Thank you, Chuck. Thank you for saying that. All of it."

"Hey. I'm fully prepared to hold myself accountable for being a jackass." They exchanged amused smiles. "I haven't known you long, Agent Walker, but I can tell you're an incredible agent, an incredible spy. As big of a dunce as I was the other day, I'm not fully stupid. And I know what you were doing when you talked me through the chopper situation. You set me at ease, got me to think I was in a video game. That was pretty freakin' brilliant."

Sarah smirked and crossed her arms again, not used to...well, this kind of praise. Then again, there weren't many who were allowed to know the agent, or see her in action. Unless they were the target. And that was a completely different story. She was the wildcard enforcer, and she was treated as such...or rather, _avoided_ as such… in the halls of Langley. To hear someone call her brilliant, say she was an incredible agent…

"Chuck, it's my job to keep you safe."

"I know it is. But I still appreciate it. And I'm going to be good, I promise." She smirked again at the way he phrased that, making him grin. "I trust you." Then he paused. "And please continue being my fake girlfriend? My sister seems to like you quite a bit from just that short amount of time she spent with you before I came in and acted like an absolute nutcase. So good work there."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Does she? Well, she's nice. They all are. I can see why you want to protect that so much, Chuck." She paused, giving him a serious look. "And I'd never do anything to hurt them. Please tell me you believe that now."

"I do," he said sincerely.

"Good."

A lot of things had just been turned onto their heads, her perceptions of his behavior, of _him_. And that voice in her head telling her that a pedestal wasn't where this man belonged was fading without her even realizing it. Because what he'd done here tonight felt big. It felt almost a little unbelievable. How eagerly he'd shed his ego, peeled away the veneer of immaturity, stepped up, and not just apologized, but called himself out. He...understood. And maybe that was the biggest part of this.

Chuck Bartowski had no idea what was happening to him. He was scared, in the dark. He'd made the wrong choices, he'd done the wrong things, believed the wrong people. He didn't understand any of what Bryce had done to him, or how they might undo it. But he understood where he'd misstepped. He understood why she'd been so upset with him. He understood.

And he promised to actually trust her this time. To trust her to lead him through this dark maze of uncertainty and danger.

The distance she was prepared to set between them in spite of this whole foolish cover dating thing Graham and Beckman were forcing them to do, because of what she'd felt was the core of him, the immaturity and inability to handle even the simplest instructions without thinking he knew better...that distance didn't feel as...imperative, did it? Or maybe it was even more imperative now that she knew she was wrong when she'd labeled him with all of those words.

He _was_ good. He was the rare kind of good that owned his mistakes, took responsibility, and acted to rectify them. He was the kind of good that exceeded expectations of what good was even supposed to be.

She shook herself a bit and took a deep breath. "Chuck, I was harsh when I yelled at you the other night. I'm sorry about that. You've been through a lot and you are bearing it better than I think anyone else might in your shoes. Honestly. Casey and I have both had a hard time...putting ourselves in your shoes. I sincerely apologize. I shouldn't have been so mean. But I needed you to get it. And I need you to get it now."

"I do."

"Do you?" She sighed. "I'm not meaning that in a sarcastic way, either. I'm really asking. Because I meant what I said. I'm what's keeping you from being shipped out of here and locked up in a windowless underground room. And I'm not saying that because I want more praise from you or anything. I'm saying it because I need you to understand that. Okay? This is...incredibly serious. But if you trust me, if we-if we work together in this, if you do what I say...we can get through it. We might both...misstep. You might make a mistake and I might snap." She winced. "But we need to stick together."

He'd gone a bit pale, but he nodded, pulling his shoulders back and lifting his chin. "Understood. And I trust you." He pushed his hands through his hair then. "You know, with Casey being a jerk who never talks to me or tells me anything and you being rightfully mad at me since the other day, I haven't really had a chance to, erm, to ask. But with Zarnow out of the picture, what's-what's gonna happen to me? I mean, what are the chances I get this crap out of my head?"

Chuck seemed to brace himself for the worst, and she had a momentary urge to wrap her arms around him and squeeze as tight as she had to...to make him feel okay again. To reassure him.

Instead, she sighed, playing with the sash of her robe. "There might be another way, but honestly, I don't know. Not yet. For now, those secrets aren't going anywhere. That's going to mean more missions, more danger…" She didn't want to say it but she had to be real with him, the way he just was with her. "That's more secrets you can't tell your sister or your friends."

He frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Sarah moved in closer and finally put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "Some people want to be heroes...Others need to be asked." She let that settle for a moment. "So… Chuck, are you ready?"

This was going to be a rollercoaster, she just knew it. It already was. He was a rollercoaster all on his own, but then with the secrets, the inevitability of her superiors wanting to use his flashy thingy...as he'd called it...Oh God, this was going to be insane. But she'd be here. She wasn't going anywhere. And she wasn't letting him down.

Contrary to what she'd thought even just a half hour ago, Chuck Bartowski wasn't the type of guy who'd let _her_ down, either. She knew that now.

He finally nodded. "I'm ready."

"Good."

She took her hands off of his shoulders and lowered them to her sides, taking a step back.

Yeah, this would be a rollercoaster. But if Chuck was ready for it...Well, she was going to be ready for it, too.

* * *

 **A/N:** BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM. (drops mic) -SC

DC here...But the question is dear reader, are you ready? (Because Chuck and Sarah aren't.) We'll be back soon.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** DC here. Everyone okay? I mean did Steampunk knock you on your butts or what? Let's talk. So I feel comfortable saying by that chapter I really felt like I hit my stride on this fic. Going forward it's more original content, more of what you expect from us. More bad jokes, more running gags, and more…beginnings of a pairing that Steampunk and I just adore. Baby steps, guys. Baby steps. But, let me warn you, there will be times you will wonder what we're doing, and let me just remind you our joint account name should be IAmCharahTrash. Seriously, if you enjoyed what came before...you ain't seen nuttin' yet. Strap in. It's gonna be a helluva ride.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck (secretly I've heard that Steampunk might, but don't tell her I know….)

BRUH, IF I OWNED IT, YoU'd aLL kNoW iT aNd fEeL iT iN yOuR BoNeS. -SC

* * *

Sarah was putting in her pigtails when her phone chimed for an incoming text. She froze and slowly turned towards it thinking about the last text she had gotten and how she really wasn't as ready for the rollercoaster ride that was Chuck Bartowski as she thought she was.

It had been two days ago when she burst into his apartment, gun drawn, scaring Chuck...his eyes wide. He had been wearing an apron that said "kiss the cook" and an oven mitt, and was holding a cookie sheet that tumbled out of his hand and slammed to the ground as she swung the gun toward him.

"Are you okay?" she barked, pulling the gun back so as not to frighten him anymore.

"Yes?" he replied, scared out of his mind. "Are they coming for me?" She stared at him like the village had lost its idiot. "Th-the gun," as he gesticulated toward it. "You burst in here with a gun, are they after me? Are they coming though the Morgan door?"

"You texted me, Chuck!"

He became sheepish, like a realization had hit him. "Oh," he said with a wince.

She was angry. "OH? What the hell does oh mean, Chuck? Why did you text me saying, 'I need you'?"

"Because I was trying to make you, and Ellie, and Awesome, and Morgan, and Casey a dinner to make up for the one I ruined and I'm in over my head and you made this amazing souffle and I thought you could help me." He blurted it all out quickly, his head down, looking a little ashamed. "In retrospect the choice of wording probably wasn't the best."

The anger left. She was confused. What was he getting at? Wait, what exactly did 'I need you' mean to him? "Why? Our cover is fine, and Ellie said everything was all good."

He looked up at her, seeing her face. "I needed to make it up to you. I acted like a jerk towards you in front of everyone and I was trying to do right and, you know, fix this. I really messed up, and I know you said we're good, but I needed to look like a real boyfriend for the cover, so this is what a real boyfriend would do. He'd make it up to you, in front of his family and show them it's his fault." He looked down at the floor and the food there. He gestured toward the sink where she noticed a pan and something smoking. "Apparently I went too big, too fast, annnnnd—" He looked at the disaster area again and his chin dropped to his chest.

She put her gun away and walked into the kitchen where she could survey the damage. He looked a little pitiful standing there in the middle of ...what the hell was that? "Uh, Chuck, what were you making?"

"Cozy Chicken Piccata over Pasta with bread."

She glanced at the bread on the floor. "Do you prefer yours burnt?" He turned towards her his lips pulled back, almost frowning. "Now I think I understand the text." She put her hand on his upper arm. "You're not used to cooking multiple things at the same time, are you?" He shook his head. He looked so adorable standing there. The door started to open so she did the first thing that popped into her mind to sell all of this. She stood on her tiptoes and lightly kissed his cheek just as Ellie walked in. Chuck turned his head toward her and she wrapped her arms around him, side hugging him.

"Did you see what this adorable man did for me, Ellie?" Ellie shook her head. Sarah took a second to study her. Was she vibrating? "He made dinner for me to make up for the other day."

Chuck recovered a little. "Uh, it was a disaster."

"But it's the thought, right, Ellie?" Sarah looked at Ellie with her best, 'please side with me, he has to know how great he is' look. Fear gripped her. Not because she thought Ellie wouldn't, but because for a second, this had nothing to do with the cover. This was all because Chuck Bartowski was a good guy and he needed to know how wonderful he was, what he had done. In all her time with Bryce, he had never done anything like this for her. Hell, no man ever had.

"It is the thought," Ellie replied beaming at the two of them. "Here's a thought. You clean up the kitchen, Sarah and I will order pizza."

Chuck turned to her, grinning. "I like it. I like it. Are you okay with that?"

She nodded, stood up on her tiptoes, cupped his face in her hand and kissed his cheek again. She pulled back, kept his eyes locked with hers, and spoke. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Sarah, anytime."

The phone buzzed again pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a message from Graham. There was a courier coming with a dossier. She was to take it to Chuck and see what he flashed on. Graham specifically wanted to know if there was a picture in the Intersect. There was a knock on the door a few minutes later. She opened the door, exchanged passwords, and took the file. It was time to work, it was time to face Chuck, and the rollercoaster. Wheeee.

}o{

"Success!"

Chuck turned and held up his hand for Rodney to give him a high-five. "Rodders, this is impressive. This is really impressive. I mean, the improvement just over the last few days has been somethin' special, my dude. I feel privileged that I've gotten to witness this."

Rodney chuckled and started the next level. Chuck had no idea where he lived or where his parents were, but twelve year old Rodney had been showing up at the Buy More after school to play video game demos for the past month or so and contrary to what store policy might say about loitering, he'd never asked questions or kicked him out.

Suddenly, Rodney turned to pointed the gun at his face. "It's broken."

"Please don't shoot. Don't shoot me. Put the gun down. Gently."

"It can't shoot! That's the problem. It did this yesterday, too. It's busted."

Chuck smirked and took the gun. "Well, when it comes to Mr. Bartowski, my friend, busted is just a state of mind." He took his screwdriver out of his pocket and readjusted a few things, tightened some screws, then handed it back. "Try that."

Rodney went back to the game and Chuck watched, ignoring Harry Tang's presence over his shoulder. "Big Mike wants to see you," the jerk said.

"Not now, Harry. Can't you see I'm with a customer?" He leaned down closer to Rodney. "I apologize, Sir. This is not how we usually conduct business at the Buy More." That got him an amused smirk from the kid.

"NOW, CHUCK."

He spun to find Big Mike himself standing there. "I was just on my way to see you. That's crazy."

When they were locked in Big Mike's office, he recognized the serious look on the man's face and he spared a momentary thought about whether the CIA might be able to get his job back for him if he was fired today. Would they pay Big Mike off? Or threaten him? Maybe they'd blackmail him or something?

"Bartowski, what is it that you want out of life?"

"You mean existentially, like fulfillment, inner peace? That kind of a thing? Or are we talking more practically, like Lakers tickets, personal steam room…"

"I'm talking Buy More," Big Mike interrupted. "Your career. Where do you see yourself in five years, ten years?"

"Honestly? I have no idea."

"Then it's time you start thinking about it," Big Mike said. "As you know, there's an assistant manager's position open. It's down to you and Harry Tang. Now, you want that job or not?"

Chuck gaped. He'd let his usual apathetic attitude while at work creep its way into this meeting and he'd turned in a damn application for the assistant manager's job. Shit. Shit, he needed to screw his head on right. "I do. I do. I'm sorry, Big Mike. I absolutely want that job."

"Well then, Bartowski. It's your turn to show me somethin'. Those old systems stacked in the cage in the back? You know 'em?"

"I do, sir."

"You're the Nerd Herd supervisor. Get your nerds together and fix those damn things. I'm giving you two days to do it. And if you do not succeed, Harry Tang is getting that promotion. Not you." Big Mike pushed up to his feet and crossed his arms. "We clear?"

"Yessir. Crystal. I'll get—We'll get right on that, sir. It's a cinch."

He burst out of Big Mike's office and rounded up Jeff, Lester, and Anna as quickly as he could, leading them into the back and marching up to the cage as he explained what just occurred in Big Mike's office. He knew they were all behind him because nobody wanted Harry Tang as their superior. Nobody wanted that asshole lording over them all day, every day.

"I'm sorry, guys," he said. "And Anna."

"Guys is fine, I don't mind," she said with a shrug.

"Nah, it's not right. We need to come up with something non-gender specific. How about...team?"

"Fellow...Nerd Herders?" she offered.

"The Lesters." Nope. No.

"Chuck's Stable of Ho's."

Chuck turned on his heel and looked at Jeff with his best _what the fuck_ look.

But then the door behind them burst open and Morgan was there. "Hey, guys! I just heard about the...Damn, that's lame. Super lame. I'd love to help. It's just that I can't," he said with a shrug after pausing long enough for them all to actually think he was a good friend and coworker. "A, I don't have the skillsets, and B, my whole...fear of old computers thing. It's taking a lot just to get this close, honestly."

"I'm really proud o' you, buddy," Chuck said, not missing a beat.

"Thanks, bro. But I bring you news. Your lady is here, looking for you. And if I'm not overstepping my bounds, she looks—"

"You are, so stop. Stop there. I'm on my way," Chuck said, cutting him off and rushing out of this situation. He spun on his heel, walking backwards. "I'll be—I'll be back, guy—er, stable of—Oh God no, not that one. Guys! We'll revisit that conversation at a later date! Okay!"

He popped out to the front, still wincing a bit at the eye rolls he'd gotten from his troops.

Chuck stopped at the Nerd Herd desk and turned to see Sarah in her Wienerlicious outfit, looking around the store for him, raising onto her tip toes. It was cute, and he felt like if he ever said that in her general direction, she'd choke him out. So he just smiled at her instead when she finally caught his gaze, and he closed the distance as she smiled back.

"Hey," he chirped.

"Hey." Then she looked up at him as they stood toe to toe. "Gimme a kiss," she breathed.

His smiled died. "Wh-Huh?"

"For the cover," she clarified. "We've been on three dates and it's the twenty-first century, so it'd be pretty weird if we didn't...Hurry up, though, because if it takes you _too_ long, it might start to look even weirder…"

He leaned down and quickly pecked her on the lips. He almost felt like one of those wooden birds that rocked back and forth to drink water, it was so quick. But the idea of actually putting his lips directly on Sarah's lips was...way too much. It was a lot. He couldn't really handle that right then.

"Um. Okay...I guess that counts?"

"Sorry, it isn't—It isn't really a thing I've ever been good at." He realized how that sounded and his eyes got as big as saucers. "PDA, I mean. Public displays of...Not kissing, though. I'm a good kisser. Some might even say...great. Sarah, please save me from my own mouth."

She giggled and sidled up to him flirtatiously. He realized belatedly that was also for the cover. "Well, then...let's get somewhere a little more private then, so I can test that out." She winked and took his hand, her fingers playing with his in a way that he thought was most likely a lot sexier than the weird pornography he was sure Jeff watched in the home theater room in the middle of the night.

And why in the hell was his brain going there? _Please, brain, stop._

When they got into the home theater room, with Chuck looking nervously over his shoulder, his assumption about what they were actually doing there was confirmed. This was for a CIA thing, a government mission case thing. Not actual making out. Because of course. That would have been totally weird, right? Right…

It was extra confirmed when Casey pushed into the home theater room after them. "Sorry to break up your little tryst," he snarked. "Next time you need to talk to the subject, I'd appreciate a head's up."

Chuck huffed. This CIA versus NSA crap was still happening then, apparently. Great. Also, he really liked how everyone was calling him "the asset" and "the subject". It made all of this so much better.

"Relax," Sarah drawled, sarcastically. "I wouldn't dream of starting without you, Agent Casey."

"Mom? Dad? Can we get on with it? I have hard drives to fix," he snarked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Sarah was already laying pictures out on the coffee table in front of the couch. He frowned down at them and sat slowly, grabbing one of the pictures and peering at it. "Why are these people sleeping?"

"They're not sleeping," Casey murmured.

"They were killed, Chuck," Sarah corrected, sitting on the arm of the couch next to him. "And we're trying to figure out why."

They both peered down at him closely, expectant looks on their faces, he noticed. He looked at Casey first, then at Sarah. "What?"

"Nothin'?" Casey asked.

"Nothing, what?"

"Did you...You know...the reaction thing you get when you have the secrets triggered in your brain. Anything?" he asked again. Chuck frowned and looked up at Sarah, who was giving him a similar look of question.

"I have no idea! It's just pictures of dead guys!"

"Well, look again," Casey said, tapping the picture he held.

"You know, I'd rather not. It's kinda creepy."

"What about this, then?" Sarah asked, reaching over to grab a file from her bag and plopping it down on the table. "Take a look at that and see if there's anything there."

"S'that?" Casey asked as Chuck reached out to pick up the folder.

"As much as the CIA has about La Ciudad," she said with a shrug. "Which isn't much. But we know they're an arms dealer, that they're still out there, and that these men might be somehow connected to La Ciudad. Part of an arms deal that's going bad, maybe? We aren't sure. But we need to access whatever is in Chuck's head to see if there's anything else on La Ciudad we've missed. The trail leads here, but we've got nothing else."

"Chuck is right here," Chuck mumbled. "And, look, I don't know how this thing works, okay? So I can't help you." He turned through the pages of the dossier. "Nothing in here is help—" His gaze had drifted to the picture of one of the other men murdered. Then back to the file, and that sensation spilled through him, the spots in his vision, the wave of dizziness, and it was over just as fast.

"Chuck, what did you see?" Sarah asked, and he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"I had a...it was like a mini-flash…" he murmured.

"She asked what you saw, moron."

"Casey…" Sarah warned over his head. He saw the NSA agent shrug in his peripheral.

"Art. It's art. They found. They found him...him!" He grabbed the picture and showed it to Sarah specifically, because Casey could go screw himself, honestly. "This guy was found in an art warehouse, yes?"

"I think that's in one of the files, yeah."

"I know, I flashed. This is an art warehouse. They were all murdered smuggling a piece of art. La Ciudad is the end of the trail—the trail that you said was leading here. Where does a piece of art usually end up?"

"A...museum?" Casey asked haltingly.

"No, before that, ' _moron'_ —Forget I said that. Forget—Oh God." The front of his shirt was immediately clutched in Casey's fists and he whimpered as Sarah reached over to unclench the grumpy agent's fingers and free Chuck from his grip.

"What are you talking about, Chu—Oh." He spun to face Sarah as she seemed to see where he was going. He pointed at her, waiting for her to voice it. "An art auction."

"La Ciudad will be at an art auction to see the piece of art that traveled through these poor bastards' hands. Find the art auction, find the mean bad guy."

Casey was already on his feet, rushing out of the home theater room, and he came back a moment later with Lester following.

"Hey, that's mi—Uh, no it's cool. You can borrow it, s'cool, fine. Just lemme know when you're...done. Kay."

Lester left again, looking incredibly pale.

Casey set the laptop down. Chuck clicked away from the dating site Lester had pulled up—he didn't even want to know—and did a quick search for Los Angeles art auction. "Art auction, tomorrow night. Here in Los Angeles. And it's a big one. I'm assuming La Ciudad will be there to pick up his murder painting or whatever."

He cleared his throat and set everything on the table in front of him, climbing to his feet and brushing himself off, straightening his shirt from where Casey had grabbed him. "Scuse—Scuse me, just gonna squeeze past ya," he murmured down at Casey, shimmying along past his knees. "I've got some old hard drives to fix, super important stuff, but good luck with the whole spy thing and the super dangerous murderer…"

He did his best to ignore the hard look the two spies exchanged upon his revelation about La Ciudad, but he couldn't imagine they'd want him involved outside of what he'd already done. And he wasn't about to give them the chance.

}o{

Chuck strolled into the kitchen as Ellie turned from where she was frosting cupcakes. He saw her eyes get big and knew something was about to happen. He had his hands up to defend himself before she even spoke.

"Chuck, I'm so proud of you!" She came at him with the knife, frosting threatening to drip onto his shirt, and he caught her by her wrists. "Morgan told me about that assistant manager position at the Buy More! Congratulations!"

"Ah ah! Whoa. Whoa," he chuckled just as Morgan swept around from the sink, a carrot clenched between his teeth.

"Team Bartowski, movin' up in the world, huh, fam?" He slid between them so that Chuck had to let go of Ellie, and Chuck felt Morgan's hand on his lower back. If his other hand was anywhere near the same spot on Ellie, he maybe needed to make sure his sister wasn't holding a knife.

The murderous glare on her face told him it was and he prepared himself for possibly having to save his little buddy's life.

"Okay, well...first of all!" he burst out, successfully getting Ellie's attention back on him. Crisis averted. "It's not mine yet, so cool it with the congrats. And second of all, ease up on the enthusiasm." He moved away. "It's only a two dollar an hour raise at an electronics store and it doesn't even give me my own parking space. If I could even afford to buy my own friggin' car."

He opened the fridge and scanned the contents lethargically.

"Okay, well I'm hearing something of a lack of interest, Chuck," Ellie said over her shoulder, having gone back to frosting the cupcakes. "Does that mean you're maybe thinking of moving on from the Buy More and getting into a real profession?"

Chuck nabbed some leftovers in a container, too lazy to actually make anything, and stood up, feeling a spike of frustration. Her dismissiveness about the Buy More was warranted, he knew, but it still felt like an unnecessary jab.

Morgan broke in before he could answer her question. Because of course he did.

"Real profession? Sorry, I'm gonna need clarification on that." He chomped his carrot loudly, smacking his lips like a human caricature of Bugs Bunny. And he really wasn't helping his point with that.

Because apparently neither of them had any interest in speaking to Chuck, and instead decided they'd just have a discussion _about him_ , around him, he just reached over and grabbed one of the cupcakes Ellie had just finished frosting.

"He went to _Stanford_ , Morgan."

"Right, and was unceremoniously expelled senior year." This was a great line of discussion now, too. He was glad he was here for this, being talked about while he was standing right there in the room for the second time today. Only this time by people who weren't secret agents addressing a top secret supercomputer thing trapped in his brain, and he wasn't sure if that was worse or not. "Sorry to bring that up, champ," Morgan said, as if noticing the frustration on Chuck's face. "But I think we need to be realistic about our goals here."

Ellie lifted the knife. " _His_ goals? Or _your_ goals?" she demanded sarcastically.

Chuck sent them both a flat look as he wandered past them, on his way out of the kitchen altogether.

"Great question. Where do we see him in five years...ten years…"

"We?"

Chuck was gone, though, leaving the kitchen, walking out to sit on the couch alone and eat some food while they continued to talk about him as if he wasn't there. So he wouldn't be there. He'd be over here.

"No, seriously, El, think about it—"

"You've called me El for the last twenty years, Morgan, and I've told you every single time not to."

He ignored her. "This is all he knows! He's a big fish in a little pond. It's always better to be the big fish in the little pond!"

"You aren't even making any sense. Even without Stanford cred on his resume, Chuck could still get an IT job elsewhere. He has the experience and he's a great interviewer."

Oh God no they were following him. They were both wandering over to sit on the chairs in front of him. He set his plate of food next to him, suddenly not all that hungry anymore and he picked up the issue of _PC Gamer_ that he'd already gone through. Maybe if they thought he full-on wasn't paying attention, and instead was actively reading something, they'd get the message…

No. No, they weren't even looking at him. This was ridiculous. He was starting to wonder if being mad was even worth it.

"Listen, it is way too scary out there! Chuck can't leave the Buy More! We're still finding ourselves!"

"Yeah, no offense, Morgan," she meant offense, whatever it was, she absolutely meant offense, "but I think my brother has spent _quite a few years_ finding himself and he's definitely proven that his place in life is not at the _Buy More_ ," she snarked. Had he, though? Not really. Maybe Morgan was right (for the wrong reasons, granted) and he would forever be relegated to working at the Buy More. He reached over to pick up that cupcake, slowly taking a bite out of it, setting it down again, licking his fingers meticulously.

"You don't understand. He is a fragile little...gelding." _What?_ "Ya know?" _No._ "He's still trying to find his legs. The real world will crush him."

Ellie just gave Morgan her narrowed-eyed _you're a freaking idiot_ look that she reserved particularly for his bearded friend. "Do you know what a gelding is?" she asked slowly.

Morgan scoffed and Chuck finally looked up at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer. He was not helping the guy out with this one. Especially since he'd basically just referred to him as a castrated horse. Unknowingly, yes, but still…

"It's the—that weird creature from _The Dark Crystal_. Smells like gelding," he said in a weird voice. "That guy."

Nope.

"What he needs is somethin' to challenge him!" Out of nowhere, Awesome plopped down on the couch, uncomfortably close to him actually, kicking his feet up on the table, tossing his arm over the back of the couch behind Chuck. "Test of his limitations. A brush with his own mortality."

That seemed...extreme.

"Know what I'm thinkin'?" the doctor continued.

"I have no idea what you're thinking," Ellie drawled in a flat voice.

"S'far as I'm concerned, dude, you're—you're way off the planet."

"Class Five white water rapids." Chuck looked up from the magazine, pretty much done with this conversation now. "Just the two of us, this weekend, near death experience."

This conversation was a near death experience.

So he climbed up to his feet and tossed the magazine back onto the couch. "Sounds great, but my wetsuit's still at the dry cleaners."

Chuck picked up his dirty dishes and walked back to the kitchen, checked out, ready to lock himself in his bedroom forever if at all possible. That'd at least make Casey and Sarah's life a hell of a lot easier, wouldn't it?

"That is a terrible idea. That's way too dangerous," Ellie was saying, as if Chuck would ever even agree to that in the first place.

"I agree. And I am not comfortable with the two of you spending that much time together," Morgan said, because missing the point of a situation was what Chuck's best friend did on a regular basis like it was a second job or something.

"Well, Chuck hasn't said a word. What do you wanna do?" Ellie asked then, and all three of them turned towards him. Oh, now? Now they wanted to talk _to_ him instead of planning his entire future for him, psychoanalyze him, parse his entire life's choices? Cool. Great. No.

"Just gonna hit the sack," he said, leaving the kitchen. "G'night, Team Bartowski."

He hastened down the hallway, back to his room where he could sit and stare at a TV screen, shoot some fools in the Covenant for a few hours until he passed the hell out, and tomorrow would be yet another day of fixing old hard drives and trying to get that two dollar an hour pay increase.

If he got that assistant manager position after all, he'd still be an asset, a subject, a brother and friend who constantly got talked about over his head, and he wouldn't even have that personal parking space...but he supposed at least Harry Tang would be pissed, and that was always a win.

But then he stepped into his room and turned on the light, heading for his TV, and caught sight of someone standing outside of his window, peering through the blinds at him like a creeper. "Oh my God!" he gasped, managing to keep his voice down just barely. "What the hell, Casey?" he hissed.

Casey was unmoved. "Congratulations, Chuck. You just got your first mission. Tomorrow night. Hope you're ready for the real world," he said ominously, before disappearing into the shadows again.

Oh...Oh, God.

}o{

Chuck had been waiting for Casey to come in all morning, it felt like. He'd even put Fernando and Skip on Casey watch while he stayed in the back working on fixing the hard drives with his team.

And when he finally got the text from Fernando, he wordlessly dashed out into the store and spotted the NSA agent in his green shirt, striding into the store. "Ah! Aha! Casey! Casey, hey! Hey, okay. I've been up all night thinkin' about this, uh, this thing. Going on tonight."

"And?"

"I have questions. Dress attire for this evening? Uh, sneakers, or are we classifying this as more of a shoe event?"

"I rented you a tux."

"Oh! That's very nice," he said, then he frowned a bit in question. "Wait, how'd you, uh, how'd you know my size?"

Casey spun to face him, that nonplussed, unapproachable, serious look on his face. Like always. "NSA. We have records of your rental information from prom night." Chuck gaped at him, eyes narrowed. "I checked the suit in your closet."

Chuck made a face. "Well, joke's on you 'cause I know for a fact that I didn't even go to prom, so...Wait, that was far more damning for me, wasn't it?" Casey grunted in amusement at his expense. "Okay, this is my first foray into major undercover spy work, so you could maybe ease up on the sarcasm. And anyway, how am I supposed to recognize La Ciudad? Is there a picture or somethin'?"

Casey gave him a look like he was the prize idiot. "Yeah, if we had a picture, do you think we woulda needed you?"

"What did we _just_ talk about?"

"I'm sorry." He wasn't. "We're hoping somethin' in the event triggers a flash."

"A what...oh that's what we're calling the...thingy, okay. Okay, got it. It's a flash now, 'kay. See? That's all ya had to say, Casey. Now, uh, hand-to-hand combat, in all seriousness, if it comes down to me and La Ciudad in some fisticuffs or somethin', is there, like, a twenty minute tutorial you can take me through?"

Chuck was unable to keep a speck of panic out of his question, he found, after a sleepless night of freaking out and picturing all of the ways in which this...mission or whatever...would end up with him dead.

"Don't worry. You're gonna be fine. Nothin's gonna happen to you." Casey paused. "Assuming you know how to tango."

Chuck just stood there, staring at him. "Seriously?"

"Oh, I don't joke about your life."

He left Chuck standing there some more, peering after the NSA agent. Big Mike suddenly popped out of his office and stared him down. All he had to do was point at his watch and Chuck was rushing through the store towards the back to continue working to get that AssMan job.

"Chuuuuck," Morgan stepped in front of him.

"I've got computers to fix. Not now."

"Your girlfriend's here."

"Oh." He turned and glanced over to see Sarah standing there, in that damn uniform of hers. "One minute," he breathed in her direction, holding up a finger, and he continued towards the back.

"Don't worry about it, we got it," Anna said from where she sat on the Nerd Herd desk, peering at her phone. "There's only a few left."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"It's done," Lester said. "But the next time I have a big date, you are gonna cover for me."

"Okay...great! Thanks, team...I'll see ya tomorrow." Because if he had the opportunity to bug out early today, he'd take it.

He turned on his heel and headed towards Sarah as Morgan sidled up against him and threw an arm over his shoulders. "Where you lovebirds headed?" Morgan asked.

"We're going to an art auction," he said with a bit of a jaunty look on his face, "at the Wilshire Grant."

"Oooooh, swankyyyyy! I like it, maaannnn...Uh, aren't we movin' a little too fast?"

"No."

Chuck joined Sarah at the door with a grin, sticking his elbow out for her to thread her arm through his. There was some amusement in her blue eyes and he took it as a win.

}o{

She figured sitting at the tables outside of the Wienerlicious was a good way to advance the cover—let people see them talking. But also, she'd gotten a lot of crap from her stupid boss for not keeping the napkin holders stocked out there, and for not cleaning or bussing the tables and she figured she could at least kill two birds with one stone.

"Want a soda or something from inside?" she asked as he plopped down in one of the rickety wooden chairs.

"Do I have to pay for it?"

She smirked at that. "Yeah."

"Then nah."

Smirking harder, she sat across from him and began refilling the napkin holders. "Good. That means I don't have to look at that pipsqueak again or hear another diatribe about my customer service. If he tells me to smile one more time, I'll put his head in the deep fryer."

He chuckled. "Please don't do that. I, uh, I need your help tonight."

Sarah snorted, liking how _that_ was the only thing he was worried about, and not her boss' head being deep fried. "Well, I'm here." He sent her a weak smile and nodded. She could see a thread of nerves in him, possibly even panic. "The idea with the cover is to keep it as simple as possible without revealing true personal detail," she advised him.

"Simple as possible," he muttered. "No personal detail. Uh, good. Perfect. I'm on it."

"Good." She looked up at him through her eyelashes as she stuffed napkins into the holder. "Any thoughts on a name?"

His features crumbled for a second and she thought that no, he didn't have any thoughts on a name. It probably hadn't even occurred to him, because he wasn't a spy. He wasn't an agent. He had no field training, no training of _any_ kind, and they were really just going to shove him out there into the field, forcing him to go undercover. Like it was the simplest thing in the world. There were analysts who'd been with the agency for years who couldn't pull off a cover in the same type of situation they'd be throwing him into tonight, and they were expecting him to, and it was incredibly dangerous and stupid.

But she hadn't been given any voice in the matter, thanks to Casey dismissing her warranted worries in front of Director Graham and General Beckman. Not that they would've cared if both Agent Walker and Major Casey were against the idea or not. But like Beckman had said, La Ciudad was the most illusive and dangerous arms dealer in the world. And they were sending this guy with their secrets in his head right into this situation that could easily get him killed, those secrets lost forever.

But Casey had to open his damn NSA mouth and offer up the idea of bringing Chuck so that he could flash and recognize La Ciudad there. It was foolish in so many more ways than one. The biggest being that Chuck would be in danger, but also, if no one who'd ever seen La Ciudad's face lived to tell about it, how would Chuck have some...file in his brain to be able to recognize the face amongst the crowd?

It didn't matter now, anyway, because Beckman's tone when she responded to her concerns left no room for argument. They wanted to "test" what Chuck was capable of. Like this was some sort of fill-in-the-bubble standardized test.

"Charles Carmichael?"

She looked up at him in a bit of surprise. So he had thought about it?

"Simple. Dignified," he said.

"Easy to remember, and not far off from—"

"Graduated with honors from Stanford. Runs a hugely successful software company, semi-retired, and is considering entering America's Cup," he said with a bit of a far-off look in his eyes.

She was a little impressed but mostly just amused, folding her arms on the table and smiling at him. "Have you done this before?"

He pulled it back a bit, his voice getting a little quieter. "Let's just say, uh, Mr. Carmichael and I share a small kinship."

Sarah furrowed her brow, still smiling. "How's that?"

Chuck winced and looked away, and she realized a bit belatedly why. "When I first entered Stanford, it's kind of where I...envisioned myself being...by now." She could hear the underlying tone of shame there, embarrassment, regret. It made sense that the man he'd chosen to play tonight was some alternate universe version of himself if his life hadn't been derailed by getting kicked out of Stanford before he could graduate. "Except for the sailing part. I don't really know where that came from; I just tacked it on right now, spur of the moment." His smile was there to perhaps disguise the momentary vulnerability he'd shown her, she knew, and she made sure not to let pity show on her face, or sympathy. Instead, she just smiled back at him as he continued. "But he's where most of my class already is."

"So what happened?" she asked. Perhaps it was a little disingenuous of her to ask when she already knew. But she didn't know how Chuck might react to the knowledge that she knew an incredible amount of information from his life before they'd met over a week ago. Including that he'd been kicked out of Stanford due to cheating. It was one of the things that had made the dossier on Charles Irving Bartowski a bit more interesting, one of the things that made her think he might be the type of person who'd help a rogue agent.

A small thing, of course, but still...something she couldn't overlook back then.

"My life took a little detour senior year when our old friend Bryce Larkin discovered stolen tests under my bed and was kind enough to alert administration."

She gave him a long look. It probably wasn't right, asking him a question with an answer she already knew and judging him based on whether he actually told her the truth about it or not. But the fact was he hadn't even blinked or hesitated before laying it out in much the same way it'd been laid out in his dossier that she'd gone over in the plane to Los Angeles. No lies, no sidestepping, just the sincere and honest truth. She admired him for it.

"So did you steal the tests?" she asked, still eyeing him closely.

"I thought it was kind of implied that I'm a decent person." He sent her a look.

She raised her eyebrows and responded carefully. "Well, we all make mistakes."

He nodded. "And I've made plenty. That just wasn't one of 'em."

When he looked off to the side, squinting out over the parking lot, she studied his face, unable to keep the little smile from her lips, and more importantly, her eyes. She believed him. One hundred percent. And she didn't even think about the implications—that it was Bryce's word over Chuck's, that she'd known Chuck a little over a week as opposed to the long partnership she'd had with Bryce (and the rest of it), and she still chose to believe Chuck over her erstwhile partner.

"But hey, then Bryce emailed me a whole database of government secrets that are now apparently logged in my brain I guess, keeping me in a constant state of fear, danger, and anxiety, soooooo...I'd say we're even!" He sent her a sarcastically chipper look.

"Don't worry about tonight," she said quickly, as sincere as she could possibly be. He was going into the lion's den, as it were, and she didn't need him freaking out, even though it'd be entirely appropriate to do so considering everything. "No reason to be nervous. I'm not gonna leave your side," she reassured him, unconsciously reaching over to lay her hand on top of both of his that were folded together in the middle of the table. He looked down at it and she nearly pulled it back just as fast, but his reassurance was important here, and he seemed to react positively when she touched him, the tenseness in his shoulders easing, his face softening.

She wouldn't think about any other implications therein enclosed in that extra softness and calm of his.

"Me? Nervous? C'mon. Never," he drawled teasingly.

"Your hand is a little moist," she teased back.

"It does that when I'm freakin' out," he said, not missing a beat.

She couldn't help the amused smirk at that. She wasn't going to do anything to let him think his fears were warranted, though. Because she and Casey would be there at his side, and they weren't going to let anything happen to him.

Maybe Casey was right. It was just an art auction. What could go wrong?

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading, folks! More soon!

-SC and DC


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** We're making headway. Thanks to everyone still reading! Let us know what you think. Let's just dive right back in, shall we?

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own "Chuck", and we're not making any money from this story.

* * *

Chuck looked at himself in the mirror. Tonight he was to be Charles Carmichael, at an art auction, with Sarah Walker as his date. This was the life he could have had. Well, not with Sarah, obviously. He gazed into the mirror.

"Carmichael. Charles Carmichael." Maybe the bad British accent wasn't needed. Tonight maybe he could have some fun. At least his sister and best friend wouldn't be discussing his career possibilities, and Casey and the alphabet directors wouldn't be referring to him as the asset or the Intersect. It wouldn't even be his real name, but it was a name he chose, and an identity he came up with. He supposed that was better. He could dance with Sarah… _He could dance with Sarah._ A grin came to his face as he slowly nodded. Wait...did Casey know he'd have to dance with Sarah and that was why he told him about learning to tango? He left his room quickly.

"Hey, sis. Hey, sis, um... do you know how to tango?"

Ellie turned from the couch and gave him a look. "No, why?"

Rats. "Oh, no reason. I just, I have a date tonight. I thought it might come up."

Ellie looked impressed. She never looked at him with disappointment, but in the past few years he had seen very few impressed looks when it came to women and his dates. To be fair, there hadn't been that many dates so… "You're tangoing on a date? Well, that's definitely new territory. It's good to see you reaching outside of your comfort zone."

"Well, considering my comfort zone extends to the end of that couch, new territory was bound to come up."

"Did someone say tango?" Devon's voice came from the hall behind Chuck.

Chuck knew what was coming, and he didn't need the Awesome version of the tango, just the normal one would do just fine. "No, thank you, Captain Awesome, I'll look it up online." Chuck turned as he spoke, and realized Awesome was shirtless. Surely he had on...his eyes traveled down…..whew! "Would you please put on something, a robe or something?"

Nope, Awesome was in Awesomeland where no one but Awesome resided. He raised his eyebrow as he spoke in a low tone, to set the mood. "Did a semester abroad in Buenos Aires. Spent many a night tangoing my way into señoritas' pantalones." Did he not realize his girlfriend was sitting right there? Did he not care? Apparently not because a few moments later Chuck found himself in the living room, across from Awesome, in a robe.

Awesome threw up his left hand, grabbed Chuck's right, and slapped it into his. Awesome closed his fingers around his hand one at a time, somewhat sensuous. What the hell was going on? Awesome took Chuck's other hand, and placed it on his shoulder. Chuck then jumped as he felt Awesome, quite firmly, grab his ass.

"HEY!" Chuck yelled jumping back.

"Something wrong, Chuck?" Ellie asked, trying not to cry because she was laughing so hard.

"Your boyfriend just grabbed my ass," he force whispered to her. "I'd think it would bother you."

Awesome stood there, unfazed by Chuck's antics. "Chuck, if you can't stand the heat of the tango...muy caliente..."

"I can stand it, it's just...boundaries."

"When I finish teaching you the tango, there will be no boundaries left between you and Sarah." Chuck's eyes widened.

"I really don't want to hear some of these things about your past," Ellie muttered.

Awesome held up his hand. Chuck swallowed and put his in Awesome's again. The fingers, one by one closed over Chuck's hand and Chuck jumped back again.

"Seriously, dude, I'm not the one whose pantalones you're trying to get into," Chuck said.

"Chuckster." Devon gave him that reassuring smile and look of confidence that only Awesome had. "Trust me."

"Why do people keep saying that to me?" he muttered taking Devon's hand again. The music restarted, and this time when Devon pulled Chuck into him, Chuck reached down, grabbed Awesome's hand, and pulled it up to his back. They moved around the floor, Chuck feeling better until Awesome took Chuck's hand up above Devon's ear and slowly dragged it down the side of Devon's face. Chuck, in horror, looked over at Ellie who was smiling. What was WRONG with these two? He nodded, looked Devon in the eye, and put his hand on the back of Devon's neck. Soon Chuck found himself facing forward as Devon took both of Chuck's arms, made them sweep wide and then come back behind him as both hands grabbed both of Chuck's ass cheeks. Chuck's mouth fell open. At this point there was nothing he could say...Nothing. That was until Devon opened his robe, threw it to the floor, with a predatory look on his face. Chuck found himself dipped by a man in his boxers as Ellie cheered them on. As Devon spun him away, Chuck had to admit, he did pretty well.

The lesson continued until Chuck felt confident. After a shower he found himself getting ready in front of his mirror. Chuck had to admit the tux was a nice touch. He got the tie tied, Ellie helped him with the cufflinks, and when he left he felt very comfortable with his role in the mission. He was going to tango Sarah Walker so hard….well, not like THAT. He shook his head to get THAT thought out of his mind.

He stood outside as a limo pulled up. The door opened and Sarah stepped out wearing a red dress that made his jaw drop. God, she should always wear red. ALWAYS.

"Mr. Carmichael," she said with a wink. She walked over and straightened his tie. Chuck swore his tie was straight, but maybe he was mistaken. "Very dapper." She ran her hands down the shirt, smoothing the wrinkles.

"You look amazing." He had managed to make his voice work. The smile she gave him warmed him all over. "Shall we?" She nodded and they entered the limo. Chuck remembered what he had said earlier about not going to prom. This was grown-up prom, which was better.

}o{

They pulled up to the location and Sarah grabbed a box. She handed it to him. "Here." Chuck knew she was a spy, but the smile on her face….it seemed genuine. "This is for you. Inside the watch is a tracking system." He opened the box and looked at the watch. "That way you can't run away from me. And if you flash on anyone, tell me immediately and then stay out of the way."

Chuck slipped the watch on. "Absolutely, yeah. I, uh, I always run from a fight."

Casey's voice came from behind, as he rolled down the divider from his spot behind the wheel. "This isn't a joke, Chuck. No one who's ever seen La Ciudad has lived to tell about it."

Chuck looked up at Sarah, concern covering his face. "Is he being serious? Seriously? What are my chances of getting into trouble?"

Sarah glanced at Casey. "Toughen up, you'll be fine... assuming you know how to tango."

Chuck turned to him. "I did some preparation, okay? I wouldn't call myself an expert…"

A look of confusion and ….was that disgust? crossed Sarah's face. "Why would he need to know how to tango? Is that code?"

Chuck was confused. "No, not—No, he told me that I needed to know how to tango…" He watch the smile grow on her face. Casey burst out laughing...Oh. He had gotten him. Really, really, gotten him. But he didn't care one little bit. Casey could make fun of him, and make him the butt of every joke, as long as she smiled at him like that. He composed himself. "Spy humor, I like that."

Agent Walker took back over. "Come on, you ready?" They exited the limo and started toward the door. "So you learned the tango, huh?"

Chuck shrugged. "I mean Awesome taught me...in a robe….him, not me….although, does that make it better?"

Laughter bubbled out of Sarah. Real honest to goodness laughter, at least Chuck thought it was. "I'm really not sure. Why'd you do that? Learn to tango I mean."

Chuck glanced over at her. "Because if needed to, I didn't want you to be exposed out there, and I kinda think anyone who is Sarah Walker's boyfriend, cover included, would know how to tango. And do other cool stuff like that. Classy stuff."

She went quiet for a second. "Thanks, Chuck. We should get inside." He went in with her, wondering if those lessons would pay off.

}o{

"Wow." He felt her looking at him as he took everything in. The high vaulted ceilings, the violins playing, for a moment he felt like James Bond and then he looked over at the smiling angel on his left. Bond girls had nothing on her….actually would he be the Bond girl because she was the spy? He couldn't be the Bond guy….

"Chuck?" Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he realized he was standing while people were trying to make their way inside. "You okay?"

"Yep," he nodded quickly and cleared his throat. "Just taking it all in. Shall we?" He offered her his arm and she took it, giving him a reassuring smile. They started up the stairs and he saw a waiter with hor d'oeuvres. He always wanted one of those fancy little treats, and he couldn't help himself as he reached over to grab one….and immediately dumped soy sauce on his shirt.

"Oh, nice," her voice came beside him. He heard the humor in her voice, and he was confused. He thought spies were always supposed to be all business, but with her….

He slowed his walk and turned toward her. "I've been a spy all of five seconds and I already have soy sauce on my shirt."

She was smiling, that was for the cover, right? Or was she genuinely having a good time? "Well, go and wash it off." She paused and kept smiling. "And Chuck, stop saying that you're a spy."

She was smiling for the cover...had to be, right? "Right, of course."

He walked into the bathroom and began to work on his shirt. "Idiot." Was that for spilling the soy sauce, or thinking Agent Sarah Walker was having a good time? Either worked. God, she was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. He heard the door close and a man walked up to the sink beside him. He glanced at him in the mirror and he felt his brain begin to do its thing again. In his head flashed images of dead people, different pieces of art, and the dossier on La Ciudad ended the slideshow on acid. Chuck shook his head from the slight dizziness that accompanied the flash. He saw the man stare at him.

He turned to Chuck. "Do we know each other?" He had a British accent.

Chuck tried his best to keep his cool. He really tried. "No. No, not that I know of." Chuck gave the man a smile. "Sorry." With that he left the restroom. Chuck glanced back, saw the man wasn't watching and picked up his pace. He felt a little safer when he saw her on the stairs where she was waiting for him. He rushed up to her. "It's him."

Sarah turned to him. "Who?"

Chuck turned and looked from where he had just came from and Sarah followed his gaze as the British gentlemen walked back into the party. "La Ciudad." Chuck began to freak out.

He felt Sarah grab his arm, turning him. Protecting him. "Come on." They entered the ballroom at a normal gait. Chuck was trying to keep cool and reason with Sarah. "I've already identified the perp, as it were, what are we still doing here?" He kept watching her, but she was focused on something else. He tried again. "I mean, you know, mission accomplished. Time to go."

She barely turned toward him. "Chuck, go wait at the bar." And she walked away leaving him standing there by himself. That wasn't very good protection of the asset.

"Go wait... wait at the bar?" He pointed at her...she never turned around. He began to walk backwards, watching her...she still never turned around. "Okay, you go do what you do. I'm going to be at the bar, waiting there. Covering that whole area." He went to bar and had a seat.

Casey turned toward him, and he realized immediately why Sarah had him at the bar. He noticed Casey was dressed in a bartender's uniform. Driver and bartender...did he earn double pay for this? "Drink, sir?"

Chuck was irritated and decided he would mess with Casey. "Yeah, uh... I'd like a martini, barkeep, shaken and stirred. Thank you."

Casey smiled like his request was the most natural thing in the world, and lifted a cherry on a toothpick. "Would you like a cherry with that?" Who was this guy?

A voice came from beside him. "Chuck Bartowski?"

"No." He turned to Casey who was no help...not that Chuck was surprised. He tried to keep up the act. "The name's Carmichael."

"Allan Watterman. Stanford?"

Well, might as well go with it. "Hey, hey, how are you?" Chuck glanced at Casey and wasn't sure if it was respect or contempt he saw on Casey's face...eh...probably contempt. "Hey. Hey, you."

Chuck thought back to Watterman, wasn't he one of the ones who turned his back on Chuck when everything went wrong at Stanford? "Hey. I'm great. I don't know if you heard, I sold out of my software company." Oh, he was that braggadocious douchebag. Chuck glanced over and saw Sarah chatting up the man that Chuck thought was La Ciudad. Watterman droned on. "Kind of unemployed. Problem is, I'm too young to retire. I'm too rich to work."

Chuck nearly missed that Watterman was done bragging. Chuck let out a fake laugh. "That's quite a pickle you find yourself in, Watterman."

Chuck glanced at Casey. Casey looked irritated, or was that default mode, no, something seemed off. Did Watterman irritate him more than the normal Joe? "What are you doing now? Last I heard, you were, um, you were fixing computers or something?"

There it was. I'm rich and successful and you're not. Oh goody. "Yeah. You know, just kind of, uh, just kind of weighing my options right now. Uh, you know, I may be getting a managerial position at an electronics conglomerate, so, you know... all right."

Watterman had a shit eating grin on his face. "Well, I always knew you'd make something of yourself. Who are you here with?"

Oh ho ho, he chuckled to himself. You've stepped in it now, Mr Too Rich to Work. Eat your heart out Watterman. Chuck casually turned and pointed toward Sarah. "Oh, my date. She's right over there."

Watterman was stunned. "She's with you?" It was at that time the man Chuck thought was La Ciudad put his arm on Sarah's waist, and instead of doing anything to push the man away, Sarah gave him a smile. Chuck's own smile plummeted. "Ouch."

Chuck knew it was part of the mission, he knew they didn't have anything between them, but the one time he could have used the fake relationship to his benefit and not the CIA's….dastardly villainy had struck again. Chuck said the only thing he knew to say. "We have a very open relationship."

Watterman didn't even really try to rub it in...much. "Well, hey, um, give me a call. You know, if you need help with the whole job thing. I know people."

Chuck was just trying to get through this at this point. Why Sarah, why right now? He grinned at Watterman. "Bet you do, yeah."

Watterman handed Chuck his card sealing the "I'm better off than you" routine. "Yeah. There you go."

Chuck looked down at the card from Zink Link. He felt it begin and this time, this time, he welcomed it. The flash ended and Chuck continued to stare at the card as he spoke. "Insider trading and offshore accounts in the Caymans."

Watterman blinked. "What did you just say?" Chuck looked up at Watterman. He really shouldn't be smug, but he was tired of this. So tired. He gave Watterman the smarmiest look he could. "Do you work for the SEC?" He took the card from Chuck. "I gotta go." Watterman took off. Chuck turned toward Casey waiting for the big man to insult him.

Casey wiped the bar in front of him. "Good job, Kid," he grunted. Chuck looked back at the dance floor where La Ciudad was with Sarah. It didn't feel like a good job.

}o{

She took a roundabout route to put herself in the same orbit as the man Chuck had identified as La Ciudad, subtly keeping her eye on him as he looked around the room, most likely looking for Chuck.

Because when he'd emerged out of the bathroom, scrambling up the stairs towards her, he'd been everything _but_ subtle in bringing the arms dealer to her attention. The only way he could've done a worse job would've been if he'd literally lifted his finger to point right when the guy looked up at them.

And he had looked up.

This was going to be a hard sell.

It was degrading, but stupidity tended to do the trick at functions like these. Playing to stereotypes always worked in the spy game, and while it was incredibly disappointing, she wasn't going to not use that to her advantage.

She slid in behind the man she had no choice but to assume was La Ciudad, because she'd made the decision to trust Chuck and those...flashes of his. It had saved her life a week ago. It had brought them here tonight.

Part of her wanted to just put a gun at his back and lead him out into a dark alley where she could knock him out, get the boys, and kidnap him. But if this was La Ciudad, he wouldn't be here alone. He had men all around. Where, she wasn't sure yet. And she couldn't chance scanning the room for them, for fear it'd look too suspicious.

So instead she took a few steps forward, to the side, and got herself in a position to where she'd at least be in his peripheral. And then she turned and looked at him over her shoulder. It only took a small smirk before she caught his attention. It had almost been too easy, and her guard was immediately up at that.

"What is this?" he asked, a British clip to his voice. "I spy you and your companion watching me from the top of the stairs and then you follow me, is it?"

She hadn't expected him to come right out with it. Maybe some flirty bantering and side-stepping. This was looking like it might be trouble for her. She shouldn't have gone straight in, maybe, but at least this way it took the heat off of Chuck.

"Follow you? This isn't that big of a party. And I can't help it if my...companion and I think you look a lot like Michael Bolton...after he got the haircut." She made a face, wincing. "It sounds like you're from England or something. So you can't be."

"Michael Bolton." He chuckled. "Good try."

"Sorry if I disturbed you, but I'll be on my w—"

"Oh no, please. Don't go away now that you're here." He stepped a little closer and smiled at her. It sent a chill down her spine. "I'm sure you try that with all of the men you meet. How often does it work? The dumb blonde routine?"

She saw a bit of a hardness behind his eyes then. "I don't know what you mean," she said evenly.

That made him chuckle and duck his head, and then he moved in and rounded her waist with his arm. She gave him a tentative smile but didn't dare back away or break his hold. "I already like you, Lady in Red. Why don't we head somewhere you and I can talk a bit better?"

"I think here is fine…"

"No, I insist. Please. This way." He gestured towards the doorway exiting the room and she found she didn't have much choice but to comply. Clenching her jaw, she nodded once and then walked ahead of him, not missing the quick look La Ciudad threw one of his men.

The moment she passed that man, she felt the hard barrel of a pistol against her lower back.

 _Shit_ , she thought to herself. Because this had just become an even harder sell.

Another of La Ciudad's men waited out in the hallway, and when they all stepped out, she had a moment to decide if she could take out all three of them, but then the gun pressed even harder against her spine. Almost as if her captor knew she'd try to escape just then.

"Found some back stairs up to the roof. But we need to go through the lobby," the third man said.

"Good. Lead the way."

They all moved together, down the staircase into the entryway and through a side door. As they moved past a row of doors, Sarah weighed her options for escape. At some point, they'd have to remove the gun from her back. Until then, she ran the risk of getting a bullet lodged in her spinal cord.

"We're going to have to ask who you work for," La Ciudad said, his mouth close to her ear as he leaned in while they walked to the service elevator. Sarah said nothing. "Ah. Stubborn…? Good. That's much more fun, right, boys?"

She ignored him, and then a hand grabbed her bicep tightly and pushed her roughly into the elevator. The gun was at her head now, the man standing right beside her.

"At least you've stopped pretending you're stupid," La Ciudad muttered, smirking at her as the elevator took her to what she assumed must be the roof. And when she was unceremoniously dragged out of the elevator and up another flight of stairs, she found herself pushed up onto the roof, the fresh night air much cooler there as it graced her skin. If only she could enjoy it.

The man behind her grabbed her shoulder and jammed the gun harder against her back with his other hand, letting La Ciudad and his other henchman stand in front of her and eye her warily.

"Tell me your name."

She said nothing.

"Who sent you?"

Nothing.

"I. Asked. For. A. Name." He took his own gun out from the inside of his suit jacket and pointed it right at her chest.

"Tanya Loughton," she lied. It was the name on the ID card she had in her handbag, at least.

"What is your _real_ name?" he tried again. "And who do you work for?"

That got him a flat look. Did he think he was dealing with an amateur? And then she slid her gaze over to her exit, the door they'd come through. She just had to get their guns and she could make it to—Oh thank God. Casey.

He'd followed them and he was lying in wait at the door. She could see him through the crack, his eyes hard and steady. There was no sense in wasting time. She gave him a signal with the slightest nod and he smacked his hand against the door loudly to push it open, distracting her captors. With one quick movement she brought her hand up and knocked La Ciudad's arm to the side so that the gun wasn't pointing at her, then brought her other fist back to slam it into the man's face behind her.

As she glanced back at Casey, she saw him toss an extra gun her way. She dove for it, getting down as he took a few shots at the arms dealers. She grabbed the gun and spun from her spot on the ground, pointing it up at La Ciudad.

They were in a stand-off now as Casey barked, "Federal agents! Don't move!" Then he added a growled, "Don't you move."

"International agents!" La Ciudad said, holding his other hand out in defense. "MI-6!"

"Drop your gun!" she demanded, not lowering her weapon or letting her guard down for a second. She'd heard that line before.

"We're British secret service!"

"Lower your weapon!" Sarah tried again. Because she sure as hell wouldn't be the first one to do it.

They all exchanged looks, but the CIA agent kept her hard gaze on the leader. She wasn't willing to toss out the flash Chuck'd had just yet. "Everyone take a deep breath," the so-called MI-6 agent said. "I'm putting down my gun, and I'm getting my identifications.

Sarah slowly crawled up to her feet, gun still pointed at him as he set his gun down and went into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. "Slowly," Casey warned as he pulled it out and reached out towards her with it.

Still not lowering the gun, she took the identification from him and looked at it. _What the fuck?_

She frowned and stepped back so that she was side by side with Casey, and then she finally eased her gun down. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said. "We've been pursuing an arms dealer through five countries."

"Lemme guess. La Ciudad?" Casey asked, his weapon still up. She wasn't going to correct him on that, just in case.

"That's right. MI-6 intercepted a painting with plutonium hidden in the frame. Rather than announce the bust, we removed the plutonium and kept the auction in the hope of luring Ciudad."

Sarah frowned deeply. "If you're not La Ciudad, then where is he?"

" _She_ is still inside, no doubt. Waiting for the auction to start."

She…? And they'd left Chuck inside alone with no one to protect him. She spun to face Casey. "Oh my God. Chuck," she breathed.

"Oohh, come on," he growled in annoyance after she saw realization in his face, and they took off together, racing away from the MI-6 agents.

In no time at all, they reached the bottom floor, bursting into the entryway and up the staircase, but it felt like a century to Sarah. She'd told Chuck to wait at the bar, but after that she hadn't seen or heard from it. She'd left Casey to the task of keeping track of him.

"Where is he?" she barked over her shoulder as they burst into the room where she'd last been beside him.

"I told him to stay at the bar!" he barked back.

"Well, he isn't there!"

"Upstairs," he said. "They took him to a room."

God, she hated that he'd had the same thought she had. That La Ciudad had a hold of Chuck, that he'd wandered from the bar and slipped after flashing on the actual arms dealer, revealing himself to her. Sarah was hoping she was jumping to conclusions, but the fact that Casey was on the same page felt like confirmation.

"Let's go," she breathed, leading the way.

}o{

"Ah, ow! Not so tight. I have bad circulation in my fee—ahh! Okay, I lied, I have great circulation in my feet," he whimpered as a gun flashed near his face. "Go ahead and give that an extra tug, super—super tight, that's fine by me…"

Chuck was in some really deep shit.

The woman who'd asked him to dance had played on his wounded ego, almost like she'd seen it from across the room or something. But he couldn't help it, even knowing that Sarah might've been his cover date for the night, but she wasn't his real _anything_ besides a CIA bodyguard. And watching her waltz away with La Ciudad after he'd learned to freaking tango—even though it was for the job—and having an old classmate see it happen, had felt like shit.

And yeah, maybe he was weak. Maybe he'd let this woman stroke his ego a bit, asking him to tango. And yes, maybe he'd even enjoyed the tango they'd danced together. He might've enjoyed it more if she hadn't gotten quite _so_ handsy. She'd been worse than Awesome.

And now he realized she was probably doing some sort of weapons check. _Damn!_

The scar on her neck, though…The resulting flash he'd gotten from seeing it after their dance had made it quite clear this woman was La Ciudad, the dangerous arms dealer. A murderess.

He'd slipped, big time, his cover falling to pieces thanks to a beautifully timely call from Morgan. And La Ciudad and her men now had him captive in this hotel room, tied to a chair. And God, he just wanted to be at home on the couch under a blanket. Was this an appropriate situation to cry in? Would crying help him at all? Dear God…

"I have some questions for you. Let's start with an easy one," La Ciudad murmured. "What's your real name?"

"Carmichael," he said. "Charles Carmichael." He watched as she set her fingertips on the blade of a large knife set out on the table beside other weapons. And before he could even blink, she'd lifted the knife into her hand and flung it at him so that it stuck in the chair a mere inch away from castrating him. "CHUCK BARTOWSKI."

She widened her eyes, slinking closer. "That wasn't so hard. Now before you answer my next question, I want you to think long and hard about my options here," she said, taking the knife from where she'd just thrown it and replacing it with one knee, waving the knife above him. "There's the old favorite," she hummed, teasing his jaw with the blade, "yank out a tooth." She paused. "Too noisy."

Yep. Yes. Absolutely. So noisy. He'd be incredibly loud.

"Cut off a toe...that's too messy."

"Far too messy," he rushed out.

"Or we can chuck you off the balcony, Chuck."

Chuck and chuck...he got it. Should he stroke her ego a little, let her know he thought that was a good play on words? He smiled a bit manically, not quite knowing what else to do, but he was definitely about to die. Definitely. _Oh my God…_

"Probably land face first," she surmised. "Teeth go through the back of your head." God, she was sliding the tip of the blade along his lip as she hissed in sympathy. Was she capable of sympathy? She was just fucking with him. She was like a cat playing with her food. God, he was the food. _Sarah, help…_

"Not a good way to go. So, here's my question." Her goons walked around to either side of the chair he'd been tied down to. She took a few steps back, then dropped the pretenses. "Who do you work for?"

Chuck let out a huff, knowing that wasn't something he should be saying. Not to anyone. And so he tried, "No one." His chair was hoisted up into the air by the other men. "Stop! Stop! I fix computers for a living! I swear to God! I snuck into the party under a fake name to impress a girl! PLEASE, PLEASE DOWN! PUT CHAIR DOWN!"

Abject fear crashed through him as his voice got higher and higher, his chair closer to the balcony. "Goodbye, Chuck."

Oh hell no, he wasn't going like this. Not today.

"NO, NONONONO IT'S A SET-UP!" he yelled, not quite sure what he was saying.

"What is?" she asked after too long of a pause.

"The painting?" He hadn't sounded quite sure enough so he tried again. "THE PAINTING. I-I think the painting might be a fake...or something," he explained as they slowly turned him to face La Ciudad again.

"Why?"

"If you put me down, I'll tell ya."

She looked frustrated with herself as she gestured for her guys to set him back down. As he felt the chair thump back to the floor, the glorious carpet under his feet again, he let out a relieved sigh.

"I saw a photo of the painting in the LA Times, okay? But it had a different frame. So I'm assuming somebody maybe swapped it out, I don't know, but if I were you, I would not buy that painting," he explained. He'd noticed it earlier when he was looking at it, especially after he'd seen the article about it in the LA Times during his first break at the Buy More earlier that morning. The frame had been different and he'd thought that was weird.

"A fake painting?" she asked. "And you had no intention of bidding on it."

"Me? Bid on it?" he chuckled. "No. Not unless they were sellin' it for twenty-five bucks," he looked up at the guy over his left shoulder as if sharing a joke with him, "I mean that's about what I have in my decorating budget."

"Okay," she said, getting his attention by pointing a gun at him and cocking it. "Tell me how to fix a computer, Chuck."

He froze for a moment, and then he rattled off a few things, asking her what sorts of problems her computer was having, then giving her the potential fixes for those problems. He was just starting to get into his groove, when she cut him off with a, "That's enough, Mr. Bartowski, I believe you."

He sighed in relief when she lowered her gun.

"Problem is, since you've seen me, now I have to kill you."

 _What? No, wait...huh?_ "Ha-Have to? Have to? Nononono I disa-I disagree. I disagree," he ground out through his teeth. "Vehemently! VEHEMENTLY! No no nono I wouldn't say a thing, I swear to God, you don't know the things I know about people," he panted as he watched her screw a silencer onto the end of her gun. That was always bad. That was always very bad. People always died in movies when the silencer came out. OH, GOD!

"Don't worry, it'll be fast." They always said that in movies, too, and it was _never_ reassuring. NEVER. "Goodbye, Mr. Bartowski. I enjoyed our tango."

But before she could say anything else, or put a bullet between his eyes, there was a loud thump and the unmistakable sound of a body slamming into the door to the room. Without missing a beat, La Ciudad swung the gun away from Chuck and took a few shots at the door.

Then she darted back behind her guards as they pulled gangster status automatics out and battered the door with bullets. God, Sarah was probably out there. Sarah and reinforcements or something. Or Casey. That's just what those two did because they were freaking bad asses. Oh God, oh God please...

"CHUCK, GET DOWN!"

 _SARAH._

Even as he whimpered, terrified out of his mind, he rocked the chair back and forth, trying to knock himself over. He succeeded, his entire right side crashing hard into the floor. If he survived this, that was not going to feel good later. But it didn't matter at the moment as he yelled, "SARAH, HELP!"

Within a few moments the door burst open and Sarah swept in first, already shooting like a beautiful angel of death who was thankfully on his side, Casey swinging in after her and also taking shots.

When the shooting stopped, she lunged for him, falling to her knees at his back and leaning over him. "Hey...Hey, Chuck, are you okay?" Her hand fell onto his hair and she stroked it gently. Overwhelming relief at seeing her and hearing her voice nearly made him cry.

"Okay? Am I okay? In two seconds, I would'a been dead! They were gonna throw me off the balcony!"

Sarah was cutting at the ties that bound him to the chair.

"You tell 'em you work for us?" Casey asked, as if that was the most important thing here.

"OF COURSE NOT. WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?! WHERE WERE YOU GUYS?"

Sarah's hand fell to his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly before going back to getting him out of the chair.

Casey grunted. "You're still alive. I'd consider myself lucky."

Not helpful, he wanted to grouse. Not helpful at all.

But then his hands were free and Sarah made quick work of his feet. He just flopped over onto his side and just barely held back the urge to give up altogether and let the tears out. "Chuck, come on. We have to get out of here before she comes back. You all right?"

She lifted his arm and slung it over her shoulder, pulling him from the floor to sit up straight. "Did they hurt you?" she asked.

Chuck shook his head. "No, I'm...I'm okay."

"Let's get you up—"

But before she could do that, Casey had both of his hands under Chuck's armpits and he bodily hoisted him to his feet. "Stop bein' a lily and let's get the hell outta here. Come on!" he snapped, rushing on ahead of them, taking his gun back out.

"I got you," Sarah breathed, and he caught a bit of a hard look on her face as she peered at the back of Casey's head before he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. "I know you're in shock, Chuck, so just listen to my voice and keep moving forward. Okay? Hang onto me. We're getting you to safety."

"Okay," he breathed. "O-Okay. Yeah."

"You're doing great. Come on…"

Her voice. Focus on her voice. He was focusing on her voice. And he kept moving forward, feeling her sturdiness, the strength of her hands and arms, her upright form that she let him lean against.

And he did exactly as she said until they climbed into the back of that limo again, Casey hurrying into the driver's seat and peeling out to get them away.

Chuck didn't even spare Sarah a look as he leaned forward and put his head between his knees, twisting his fingers in his curls and taking deep breaths. He felt the warm, reassuring pressure of Sarah's hand on his back, and it didn't leave that spot for a long while.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Next installment coming soon!

-SC and DC


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** DC here: You'll have to forgive SC and I. We look at the reviews some days and smile evilly. We might be several chapters ahead and see what people are asking for. We're building a HUGE story, so some of these small things are gonna lead to some BIG things. Canon will change, but again, we're in episode 3 right now. But could I interest you in perhaps some….fluff? Some non-cannon…..fluff. Maybe even…..underfluff (™ pending for ESC. She makes up words too, you know) Next chapter SC? Shall we give them a little taste? Just a little one? PLEASE? Guys, I promise, the little bitty changes, have HUGE affects even a few episodes later. Just bare with us. We'll get you there. Promise.

Also, extra points for those of you who picked up the Intersect's...uh…inconsistency. We spent a good hour breaking down the flash and that one reason we changed it up. I can't wait 'til you see what's coming in future chapters. I stay so excited about this fic. SC is worn out trying to keep me calm. Enough of me, SC...take it away.

(David suffers from a touch of megalomania. Excuse him. ;D -SC)

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, and we lament about that constantly.

* * *

There'd been a look on Sarah's face that he couldn't read when she'd walked him to the gate of his apartment complex. Casey left to do some clean up, still driving that limousine. Wherever he ended up taking it, whatever "clean-up" had meant when he'd said it over his shoulder as Chuck asked if he was coming in, too… Chuck had no idea. And at the moment he didn't care.

But she'd asked him if he was okay. Not for the first time tonight. And while she had good reason to ask that question, he couldn't stop his immediate reaction—a flat look. And she'd nodded, a small, wan smile on her face. And a muttered, "I don't blame you. Neither does Casey, even if he wouldn't say it to your face."

Chuck wasn't so sure about that. But he did know Sarah was still on his side, still watching out for him. So was Casey. It was their job.

"I'm hitting the sack," he said quietly. "Pretty tired."

"Right. Good idea. Er...Casey's...Casey's gone, probably for a few hours. He won't be here. Do you need me to…" She halted, looking for the best choice of words, he thought. And he decided to maybe spare her the effort, as much as he appreciated it.

"I'll be all right, now. Thanks." The meaning in her tentative questioning was clear. He'd freaked all the way out after they barely escaped the art auction with their lives. He'd had a hard time breathing in that limo once the reality of what could've happened hit him. He'd gotten the shakes, just about. And she'd seen all of it. He couldn't help feeling shame. He knew they shouldn't—and probably didn't—expect more than that from a civilian whose closest brush with death came at the hand of foes in video games. And he knew he shouldn't expect more from himself, either. It wasn't fair to do that.

But it still made him embarrassed. Especially with the way she was asking if he needed her to stay, as though he was still terrified, still unsettled and unable to take a deep breath. The shock had faded though, and he was just tired. So damn tired.

"Okay." She reached out and put a hand on his arm, squeezing. It was such a reassuring gesture, and a large part of him wanted her to come inside with him and maybe just sit in his room with him, talk to him about nothing in particular until he fell asleep. But that was ridiculous. She was his handler, a CIA agent, a _fake_ girlfriend. That was all she'd ever be and that was all he had any right of expecting from her. She didn't owe him that much, even. But she was still here anyway.

"Good night. Uh, drive safe, huh?"

Agent Walker smiled and nodded. "Good night, Chuck."

And as he walked away, a thought occurred to him. He hadn't thanked her. He spun on his heel and watched as she moved to her car and made to get in. "S-Sarah…"

She looked up over the top of the car, one foot inside. "Yeah, Chuck?"

"Thank you. Again." He was outside where anyone could hear, so he couldn't add _for saving my life_ like he wanted to. "I know it's what you have to do, technically. But it still means a lot. That you keep...being there. For me. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He turned then and walked into the courtyard, not looking back even one last time, because he wasn't sure he really wanted to watch the special agent climb into her Porsche and peel off like the incredibly bad ass, strong, powerful woman she was.

He wasn't intimidated by Agent Walker, as much as he knew she was better than him, better than this whole operation—meant for much greater things than protecting a Nerd Herd supervisor to the point of risking her own life.

He wasn't intimidated, he was in awe. But he was well aware that wasn't a small thing. He was well aware she wasn't for him. Even as a fake girlfriend, she was far out of his league. She was far out of any guy's league, but...especially his.

And he had no right thinking that way about her, so he shoved the thought out of his head and unlocked the door to the apartment he shared with his neurosurgeon sister and her heart surgeon boyfriend.

He spotted Ellie asleep on the couch the moment he stepped inside, and he eased the door shut behind him, trying not to wake her. It was chilly in the room, though, and her blanket had shifted to the point where it was only covering her legs, and he knew his sister didn't sleep well when she was cold, so he snuck over and moved to fix her blanket for her.

His keys maybe jingled a bit too loudly as he approached her, but she stirred, made a sleepy little humming sound, and turned onto her back, slowly opening her eyes. "Hey," she breathed.

"Heeyyy…" He hadn't wanted her to wake up. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation. He'd wanted to think about what to tell her about the date, get some sleep, and have his head on straight so that he could convincingly tell her how great the date went.

And of course the first thing she asked: "How was the big date?"

"It was...good, great, fine, I'm gonna go to bed, I love you." Most unconvincing, rushed, hack job he could've possibly done, but he was too tired not to fail at this.

"What?! No, nononononono…." She sat up and went so far as to grab his wrist in both hands, pulling him back. And he knew exactly why he'd found her on the couch when he came in, instead of in bed with Awesome. She'd been waiting for him to come home so that she could find out how it all went. Wonderful, caring, nosey Ellie Bartowski. He loved her. But God...sometimes he wished she didn't do this.

"Is that all I get?" she asked, sitting up all the way and making room for him on the couch, swinging her legs around to put her feet on the floor. "Come on…Sit down." She patted the cushion next to her. "I wanna know."

He plopped down with a put-upon sigh. "El, it was a date."

"A date you spent a good amount of time getting ready for. Renting this tux…" She couldn't possibly know that her tax dollars had gone into the renting of this tux. "The dance lessons with Devon."

"Yeah, I know, it...was fine."

"Fine." She gave him a look. "Okay, fine. I'll let you have that. But answer me this: Do you like this girl?"

 _Oh no come on pleeeeease…_

"It's—You know, it's complicated."

The look she gave him was one he was accustomed to. She'd had a younger version of it back when they were in high school and he was trying to explain to her why applying for Stanford wouldn't do him any good, because there was no way he'd ever get in and what was the point? On top of the application fee he'd never get back…? It was the 'I see right through you, so stop this bullshit' look.

But instead of voicing her frustration, she sighed and leaned her elbow on the back of the couch, swiveling to face him better. "Well, explain it to me slowly. I'll catch up."

He couldn't get around her. He couldn't. He knew he never would be able to. But she couldn't know Sarah Walker was a spy sent by the CIA to protect him because he had a government database jammed into his brain by an email Bryce Larkin sent him on his birthday. She couldn't know he wasn't _actually_ dating this woman, and maybe he was selfish because he didn't want to lose that excitement and pride she'd gotten from this whole thing so far. It felt good that this made _her_ feel good. But it was a lie, so that then, in turn, felt really horrible.

Chuck just wanted to go to bed.

Maybe he could tell her...something, though. Maybe he could be real with his sister without telling her the big stuff, the important stuff that might put her in danger. So he glanced away and said, "She's a very beautiful girl."

Ellie didn't say anything for a moment and he looked back at her. "Good…? Go on…" she prompted when he didn't continue.

"And...she's very...agile…" This telling Ellie something idea wasn't panning out.

"I'm not sure how that applies, but continue…"

"I-I just think she's too exhausting for me." That was the truth, he realized. And maybe he was on the right track finally. He felt an ache in his chest as Ellie frowned thoughtfully at that.

"Wait, exhausting...how?"

"For five years, I've gone to work, come home, a semi-regular trip to the pier with Morgan for arcade times...I wasn't kidding around when I said my world so far has barely extended past the end of this couch. And suddenly I meet Sarah and I'm…" _Getting chased by the NSA, almost blown up by a bomb, nearly the victim of a helicopter crash, and splattered on the ground after a multi-story fall from a hotel balcony where an art auction is being held…_ He paled a bit, then cleared his throat. "She's exciting. And it's almost too much excitement for me, right away, this soon, and I'm just exhausted. I just don't know if I'm...enough...for a woman like that, Ellie. I don't know if my life, my life _style_ is...compatible with hers." He huffed and shook his head.

Ellie twisted her lips to the side thoughtfully, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "I don't want this to come off as lecture-y, because I'm not lecturing you. Not this time, at least." She winced when he sent her a look. "I mean, are you giving her a chance, though? You've only been going on dates for, like, a week, Chuck. I mean, this is more than you've had with any other girl since...that _thing_ you dated in college." Chuck choked a little at that. "Do you think maybe that means something? Like, maybe you like her more than you like...your lifestyle."

He frowned in confusion.

"I just mean that maybe-maybe she's a great girl who is worth...a little change to your life. Some adventure, fun you're maybe not used to having." She nudged his shoulder. "What happened on this date of yours, anyway, that made you so...hesitant about Sarah?"

Aforementioned Sarah had shot a few arms dealers to save his life, and not for the first time in the last week since she waltzed up to the Nerd Herd desk for the first time. That seemed like such a long time ago now.

"It's not any one thing that happened...It's...hard to explain, El. I'm not—It isn't even that I'm hesitant, I'm just...thinking a lot."

"Maybe you're overthinking?" He furrowed his brow at her and she chuckled quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you just date the girl if you like her? Take your brain out of it a little bit."

"I guess you know about brains, huh? You stick scalpels into 'em on, like, a daily basis."

She tilted her head and pressed her lips together. "Uhhhh, interesting description of my profession, but sure."

They chuckled together. "Did you guys tango?" she asked then.

"Oh yeah! Yeah. We tangoed. In fact we tangoed quite a bit, but, uh, Awesome taught me the woman's part of the tango, so it was a little difficult, as one might expect."

Right on cue, Awesome himself strutted out of the hallway in nothing but his boxers, looking like his usual Adonis self even though the discussion in the living room had probably woken him up from a deep sleep. Like, seriously, the guy couldn't at least put a shirt on or something…

"Sup, bro?" he asked as he plopped down beside Ellie and slung his arm over her as she laughed. "You do the famous dip?"

"Mhm, I was on the receiving end of that dip."

He looked confused for a second. "You...did tango with a woman, right?"

"And on _that note_ …" He climbed up to his feet, Ellie still laughing, and he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't the butt of the joke this time. Any other situation, he wouldn't mind it. He'd even laugh along, but he had a proverbial bee in his bonnet at the moment and he was getting grumpy.

"No nononono...you're not getting off that easy," his sister said pulling him back down to the couch. The grumpiness increased. Her smile faded then and she gave him a serious look, a caring and serious look. And he hated to let her down, but he was finished with this conversation.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

His heart plummeted. _Damn it._

"It's…" He glanced at Awesome. "Look, it's complicated, okay?" he asked in his softest, most loving voice he could muster. Because he was letting her down again. Not looking like he was willing to stick out this relationship with a girl Ellie found impressive—because she was impressive, way way way too impressive to be stuck here doing what she was doing—and looking like he wasn't willing to talk to her about it. He hated all of this and he somehow felt worse now than he already had. "Just let it go," he added. "Please?"

She looked almost a little hurt as she sighed and looked away. "Fine. You don't want to talk to me? I suggest you find someone else you can talk to about this, like maybe your idiot friend. He's called about seventy-five times. He...locked himself in a storage cage...whatever that means."

Chuck frowned and realization hit him. He shut his eyes and nodded. He supposed he wasn't actually going to get to sleep after all, at least not for a while.

}o{

It wasn't that she didn't believe Chuck, or that she didn't trust him. She was trying not to infantilize him. She would normally take him at his word when he said he was okay. But in the last week since she'd first been sent to Burbank, she'd never seen Chuck that shaken up. She supposed that wasn't saying much since it had only been a week, but it had been an insane week, even by her own standards as a CIA agent.

He'd been in shock once she got into the back of the limo with him. And she'd had to get him to lean forward and put his head between his knees. She hadn't been sure, but she thought he'd been shaking, too.

She didn't blame him. This entire situation was unfair, sudden, something she wouldn't wish on even her worst enemies. And he'd said La Ciudad nearly threw him off of the balcony, including the gunfire that had most likely come close to hitting him when she and Casey first arrived on the scene, bullets whizzing past his head.

Chuck told her he was going to sleep, that she didn't need to stay and look after him. She believed he thought he was okay, that he'd be good for the night now. But what he believed didn't necessary line up with what the case might actually be.

And La Ciudad was still on the run. Chuck had muttered, "she knows my name, she knows my name, she knows my name" over and over and over in the limo, and Sarah put the pieces together. He'd given up his real name to the most dangerous arms dealer in the world, a woman who'd successfully murdered more people than Sarah's agency even knew, no doubt. She didn't even blame Chuck for that. Because he hadn't told La Ciudad who he worked for. And even that, she wouldn't have blamed him for.

That said, he was still in great danger. It wasn't something she wanted to tell him. She didn't much fancy the idea of seeing him like that again. She could feel his shame, see it in the way he'd looked away, out the window, once he got over the worst of the shock and was calming down. It hurt, admittedly. She didn't want him to be embarrassed, or feel bad about himself, for a purely human reaction to an incredibly harrowing situation. And especially not in front of her. It hurt seeing him that way.

So here she was, Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA, quietly maneuvering her car into the back alley behind the Buy More warehouse. She'd followed him the whole way at a safe distance, knowing he wasn't the type to look for a tail. Why would he look for a tail? What in his life had ever warranted it?

But she was curious. She hadn't expected him to come back out of his apartment again tonight. And so she'd kept watch, staring at the only exit and entrance to the complex, daring anybody to even fucking try to harm him or his family.

And then he'd come out, a tired slump to his shoulders, his suit still on, tie still untied from when he'd had a hard time breathing in the limo. Why he was leaving, she had no idea. Where in the hell did he think he was going, she'd wondered? Especially when La Ciudad wanted his head on a spike.

But he was going to work, apparently.

She picked the lock on the side door next to the large delivery door, knowing it'd be a lot quieter, but she wondered if anybody had ever even used this damn door in the last ten years. She had to slam her shoulder into it to get it open, wincing as she realized how loud that probably was.

But she needn't have worried, because as she snuck through the boxes in search for Nerd Herd supervisor, she found him talking to Morgan in the cage, surrounded by old computers in various broken states.

Chuck was okay. And apparently, he was here to rescue his best friend from his own harrowing situation. Being locked in the cage with old computers…? Apparently the bearded guy had an old computer phobia…?

She listened and watched from her hiding place in the shadows as Morgan explained that the asshole Harry Tang brought more computers for the Herders to have to fix and that they'd abandoned the task of helping Chuck get the assistant manager job, trapping him in the cage himself when he tried to get them to stay.

Sarah hadn't even known Chuck was still trying to get the assistant manager position, or "AssMan", as he'd called it during their first date a week ago. Their _fake_ first date. She supposed. And he'd apparently had his coworkers, his friends, helping him while he went on another "date" with his "girlfriend". But their kindness ran out when Harry arrived with enough computers for them to fix that they'd be stuck in the cage for the rest of the night.

And instead, Chuck would be taking on the workload. Alone. He was actually doing it. The other nerds had abandoned him and he was going to just roll up his sleeves and do this, apparently. She got the feeling Harry Tang was a trash person, even though she hadn't met him. Chuck getting that position would mean the pernicious green shirt wouldn't be their superior at the store. He was essentially saving all of their asses.

He wasn't even blinking, instead diving right in.

But then she caught the tail end of something else Chuck was saying as Morgan prepared to leave him to it. "...it'll be nice to do something I'm actually good at, so I'll see you."

Sarah froze as she heard Morgan ask, "That bad?"

The tone in Chuck's voice was one she recognized. It wasn't the sweet self-deprecation she'd heard on their date almost a week ago. There was genuine belief in his voice just then when he spoke to Morgan. A belief that he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, that tonight had been his fault.

It hadn't been. And she needed him to know that. He'd done more than should be expected of him. And he'd been brave in spite of the high-pitched yelling she'd heard him emit. He hadn't told La Ciudad more than his own name. The data in his brain, the secrets Bryce had put there, was still safe. She didn't even know who Chuck was working with. All she knew was a name. Agents had crumbled in similar situations...and Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd supervisor, hadn't.

"Morgan, it became pretty clear tonight that I'm not in her league. It became crystal clear that we come from two separate worlds and no matter how much I want it to not be true, it is."

She ducked her head and slid further into the shadows, pressing her back against the crate and tilting her head to glare at the ceiling. So apparently that was about her.

And this wasn't good. It wasn't good that he was putting her on a pedestal. She didn't understand why, after everything. And she didn't want this to be a problem.

There was the chance he was just playing to the cover. But it would be just as easy to tell Morgan the date went great and end it there. She was confused now, and she had to admit to herself that she was upset, too.

She needed Chuck to trust her. But this could be bad if he did _more_ than just trust her. If he expected more from the cover they were projecting for his family and friends. This would be so much easier without the stupid cover. She thought Graham and Beckman would rethink the whole plan if they knew what might be happening—Chuck's potential feelings past just the handler and asset thing. She couldn't warn them about it, though. She would handle it herself. If they knew there was a chance for something more to happen here, even a one-sided thing, they would pull Agent Walker and replace her with someone else. Without blinking.

And hell no to that.

Morgan finally trudged out of the warehouse, leaving Chuck behind, per Chuck's request.

He'd already pulled his suit jacket off, his tie still loose around his neck, still wearing the suspenders she'd thought were kind of silly when he'd first shown up at the limo earlier that night. As she inched out from the crate and watched him roll his sleeves up, a screwdriver clenched between his teeth as he got to work, Sarah decided they weren't all that silly after all. Maybe.

He switched on some music and got to work, a man on a mission. A different sort of mission than the ones she and Casey were used to. It was something he was good at. And she found herself almost eager to see Chuck Bartowski in his element finally, for the first time since she met him. Doing something he knew, something he was familiar with, comfortable with.

She stayed there watching him, staying awake easily enough, not realizing as she hunkered down in the shadows that he was the reason why it was so easy to stay awake. His safety was important, of course, and so she should stay alert. But there was something in the way he moved, his hands steady and sure, his skill with the tools more than impressive.

Every so often, he'd break out of his concentration, pull back from the almost majestic dance of hands and technology, motherboards or circuit boards, or whatever the parts were he was handling. He'd play a beat to the music with screwdrivers on the desk in front of him, swivel his chair in a circle…

Then he'd go back to work. She found herself smiling more than once when he talked to himself, muttering things about what he was doing, mostly, and sometimes singing the words to whatever song happened to be on at the time.

Part of her felt bad as the night turned into morning, and the hour approached sunrise. Because she was getting a firsthand look at Chuck Bartowski when he thought no one was watching. What she saw was someone who was purely human—in the best possible way. She saw confidence, warranted confidence, when he had computers in front of him. It didn't matter how he reacted to the situation he'd been put in last night, even if he'd ended up fumbling. (He hadn't.) Because he was incredible at this. He was worth more than this, sure, but incredible at it just the same.

And in the meantime, he was saving his coworkers' asses. And his own too, sure.

She checked her watch after staying there for hours, watching the pile of broken computers dwindle, until she watched him click the last piece into place.

Sarah was startled by the time on her watch and decided it was probably smart to get back to her car and get out of there before the Buy More opened and someone saw it in the back alley and wondered what it was doing there.

As she slipped out the back, she still had a small smile on her face. This time it was more of a strained smile, a tinge of sadness in her. She didn't realize as she pulled away from the Buy More that she'd come out of the warehouse that morning with something different inside of her. A different perception of the world at large… Or maybe she was just different.

}o{

Chuck walked into the back room and found Morgan there. He appeared to be asleep but the more accurate explanation was probably that he'd passed out from fright, and when Morgan passed out from fright only three things woke him. Ellie's pot roast...he sure as hell wasn't asking Ellie to make a pot roast to wake Morgan. Grape soda...Chuck was fresh out. But the final thing and what he saw as he walked in...pizza. Chuck grabbed a piece and waved it in front of his little bearded buddy's nose. It was like smelling salts. Morgan popped right up as Chuck opened the door and came in with a slice on a plate.

"Oh, god! It's you." Morgan rushed him and hugged him. "They left me here, man. They left…" Chuck swore Morgan was about to tear up. "Dude, dude, you have no idea."

"Okay, okay, okay." Morgan squeezed tighter. "Settle down, settle down, settle down." Morgan finally released the grip a little, but when Morgan was scared, his koala instinct kicked in and he held onto things for dear life. It had once taken him twenty minutes to get Morgan to let Chuck go back when Billy Hendricks had ripped up Morgan's copy of Giant Sized X-Men #1. It took Chuck promising Morgan they could share his copy forever for Morgan to finally let him go. "Settle down, it's all good. It's all good." Morgan let go, nodding. That was quicker than Chuck had expected. "What happened?"

Morgan grabbed the pizza like he hadn't eaten for days. "Oh, what happened? Tang showed up, and he dropped all these off. I guess he was stashing them, you know? So... all right, let's do this."

Chuck had taken off his jacket and he turned toward his buddy. "What are you talking... Morgan, you don't know how to fix a computer. Besides, the insides scare you."

Chuck slipped his jacket over the chair as Morgan soldiered on. "Moral support, man. Never... never leave your wingman, okay? Something your team could learn a little something about."

Chuck knew his buddy was trying to help, but he had left his team behind, the Buy More team, that was. His spy team….they had left him behind as well, but when it mattered, they came and saved him. They did what they did best, and it was time for Chuck Bartowski to do what he did best. "Look, it's okay, man. Go get some sleep, okay?"

Chuck patted his buddy on the shoulder. Morgan was convinced. "Are you sure? 'Cause you say the word and we go down together."

Morgan brought his hand down and clasped Chuck's, while gripping Chuck's shoulder with his other hand. "No. I appreciate that." Chuck turned to look at the mess in front of him. "But I think it'll be nice to do something I'm actually good at, so I'll see you."

Morgan looked his buddy in the eye. "That bad?"

Chuck didn't know how to answer. Morgan had been his friend for so long, and to not be able to tell him the truth….well, he could, couldn't he. "Morgan, it became pretty clear tonight that I'm not in her league. It became crystal clear that we come from two separate worlds and no matter how much I want it to not be true, it is."

Morgan smiled at his buddy and squeezed his shoulder. "I am so glad you're finally getting some confidence back."

"Morgan," Chuck began, but Morgan had laid a finger over Chuck's mouth.

"Shhh, listen to me. You are Chuck Bartowski, the smartest guy I know, the smartest guy anywhere. You _will_ figure this out, because dude, that girl is into you."

"Morgan," he attempted to say around the finger.

Morgan was having none of it. "Dude, the beard don't lie." Morgan pulled his finger away, and Chuck really didn't have the strength right then to fight Morgan logic. "You sure you're okay here by yourself?"

"Fantastic." Morgan scrambled away grabbing the pizza. "I'll see you later. Good night."

"Good night."

He began to work on the computers. He got into a groove and barely even noticed Big Mike walk into the cage.

"You finished, Bartowski?"

Chuck shut the lid on the last laptop. "Mission accomplished."

"Whoa! Two days was meant as an incentive. I didn't think you'd really do it. I'm impressed. And I'm not a man easily impressed."

Chuck appreciated the praise, but he couldn't take it all. "I think you should know that I only fixed the last few—my team did most of the work. They deserve the credit. And you're only as good as your team, so…"

Big Mike took a bite out of his donut and pointed it toward Chuck. "First rule of management: Always take credit." Chuck blinked...that explained soooooo much. "Hope we can sell all this crap."

Tang came in holding empty beer cans. Oh boy. "Sir, there's been a major infraction— drinking alcoholic beverages on the property."

Chuck really wanted to hit Tang with a newly repaired computer, but he wasn't a violent man...that and he didn't want to re-break the computer. "Nothing wrong with a man wetting his whistle every once in awhile." Chuck's eyes widened. "Keep it out of the store, Bartowski."

Chuck straightened up, both happy and surprised. "Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely, sir."

"You get extra points for style. Looking sharp."

Chuck grinned as Big Mike walked away.

Tang was pissed. He turned to Chuck. "You look like a waiter." He dumped the cans on the ground. "Kiss-ass."

Chuck watched him storm off, and chuckled. It was time to clock in, and luckily he had a uniform in the store. He cleaned up the mess Tang had made, headed out of the cage toward the lockers, and passed Morgan who was telling his story of bravery and heroism from being locked in the cage all night.

It was gonna be a long day, but at least he had done something right. That's when he felt, rather than heard the large man behind him. How did he move so silently?

"Chuck. Good work last night."

Chuck had been made a fool of in front of a former classmate, danced the female's part of the tango, nearly been thrown through a window, had a fireside chat with Ellie, saved Morgan's life from the cage….or at least a trip to the insane asylum for his little buddy...and now Captain Grunts-a-lot was making fun of him….again. He had had enough. "Okay, you know what?" He kept walking for many reasons: one, he needed to get to his locker, two, if he stopped he might fall over, and three, and most importantly, if Casey made a move toward him, maybe with Chuck already in forward motion he had a shot of getting away...Not likely, but maybe. "I'm, I'm working on an all-nighter here, big guy. And I realize that you are probably armed. And so I'm gonna ask you very nicely, would you please ease up on the sarcasm?"

"I wasn't being facetious." Chuck turned to face him. "You helped us find La Ciudad."

Chuck didn't see it that way. It was another loss in his book, and there were a lot of losses in there. "But she got away."

"Yeah, we got a photo from hotel security. We got a blood sample from a broken window. Our intel tell us she's heading down to Central America. We have people waiting there." Chuck began to grin. Casey eyed him for a minute. "You're lookin' sharp."

This was nice. Something went right. He spoke in a happy voice. "Yeah, thanks."

Chuck took a drink of coffee. "That was facetious." Casey began to walk off. At least he didn't call him an idiot. "Idiot." Annnnnnd there it was.

Chuck changed into his Nerd Herd outfit and waited on a customer that had brought in a repair the day before. He had placed it at the front desk and he had the customer follow him there to find it. "I fixed this one personally. So it should be good as new. And sorry about the delay." That's when the two very large men that tried to throw Chuck out the window the night before walked in the door. Chuck did the only thing he could think off….he dove behind the desk. He waited there, hoping Casey would find them, or Sarah, the US Army... He just wanted the bad men to go away, and then worst happened. Harry Tang showed up.

"Chuck, hiding from work again?"

"I, uh, I-I think I dropped something. Go away, Harry!"

"Oh, you wish I would. I'm not going anywhere, Chuck. When you go to sleep at night, all you're gonna see is Tang in your face." That was the most disturbing thing Chuck had heard in his entire life, and that included what Morgan did with Ellie's pillow after prom.

Well, he thought it was until he heard a voice that nearly made him wet himself...if he was honest he may have wet himself. "Excuse me, please. Where can I find a Chuck Bartowski?" Chuck crawled away quickly, he had to come up with a plan soon, or they were going to kill him...or worse…he wasn't sure what worse was but he was in no mood to find out.

}o{

"I'm going on lunch."

Scooter spun around from where he was frying some corndogs. "You just had a break fifteen minutes ago."

"Mmmm noooo I don't think I did. See ya in forty-five."

"H-Hey! Yes! Yes, you did! I'm not crazy, Sarah! I know you're trying to make me think I'm crazy, but it isn't working!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Scooter. You're crazy."

"You—Where are you—?"

But she'd already walked out of the door, and she ducked into the coffee shop next door to get a coffee and a few muffins. She figured Chuck might want one. Or maybe he'd be able to get off for his own lunch break and they could eat together.

She strolled across the parking lot towards the Buy More, spotting a postal worker striding determinedly in the direction of the Wienerlicious with a package under her arm. Sarah tried to make eye contact to smile politely as she got closer, but the woman looked away pointedly, and when she turned her head, Sarah saw the scar on her neck.

 _Wait…_

Her feet stopped almost of their own accord as the alarm bells went off in her head. She'd seen the photograph of La Ciudad this morning. Casey had sent it to her. It wasn't the best photograph, not as clear as they'd like it to be. But he scar on her neck had been a big talking point.

She kept walking then, not risking turning to look back at the woman just yet, but ninety percent sure she'd just crossed paths with La Ciudad. The moment she got to a food delivery truck, she ducked behind it, abandoning the food and coffee on the ground and pulling her watch up to her lips. "Think we've got some company."

Almost immediately, Casey's voice came through with an, "I'm on it."

Shit, that meant La Ciudad's guys were at the Buy More. Sarah frowned deeply. She'd sent her goons to grab Chuck...so what was _she_ up to?

The CIA agent spun and peeked around the truck to watch as La Ciudad climbed up the ladder onto the roof of the Wienerlicious with her box. _What in the hell…?_

The second she was out of sight, Sarah silently sprinted back to the Wienerlicious and leapt up onto the ladder, climbing up as quickly and as silently as she could. She had a pretty good idea of what La Ciudad had in that long, thin box, especially with the way she was getting on a roof, and with the way it gave her a clear view to the Buy More entrance.

Hell. No.

She crawled up onto the roof and swung herself down to land in a crouch. She spotted the woman on the other side of the roof, her fears confirmed as she saw her move to the edge with a sniper rifle in hand, beginning to set it up to take her shot.

Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, she snuck closer, her fists raised, ready to beat the ever-loving shit out of the arms dealer. But if she could just get the drop on her, find the right pressure point, she could knock her out easy, no mess.

She slowed significantly as she crept closer, and she saw something twitch in the other woman's shoulders. She knew immediately she'd been heard, and she braced herself for what was coming just in time as La Ciudad spun to point the rifle at her. She knocked it out of her hands, sending it clattering to the ground. And she made the mistake of watching it to make sure it skidded far enough away, because then she felt a boot swipe across her mouth and she went down on one knee, wincing at the pain, tasting blood immediately.

This bitch really had no idea…

She looked up at the smirk on La Ciudad's face and wiped the blood from her busted lip. "Back for more, La Ciudad?" she drawled with a bit of a cocky lilt to her voice.

"I'm not here to play games."

She swung her leg at her again and Sarah caught it, twisting and throwing the arms dealer onto the ground as hard as she could. She could tell by the look on the woman's face that it had hurt. _Good._

But then her hold on her leg was broken and and another boot came up towards her face. She just barely ducked it, staggering back a safe distance away and giving La Ciudad time to get to her feet. "I'll kill you first, then. What are you? FBI? NSA? CIA?"

"I'm the last person you're gonna see before you wake up in an underground high-security cell where you're staying for the rest of your life." She raised her fists and beckoned the other woman closer. When she sprang, Sarah moved her head to the side just enough to miss the punch and she brought her elbow around into La Ciudad's jaw. She calmly stepped around to face her again from the other side as the woman clutched at her face with a pained grunt. "I'm not playing games, either."

La Ciudad cursed and came at Sarah with a flurry of punches, all of them just barely blocked. She was fast, Sarah found. Faster than she'd expected. And she ended up having to block a little further to her left than she preferred which gave the arms dealer the perfect opening to crack her left fist across Sarah's face.

Sarah immediately came back with a high kick that the woman ducked and received a hard backhand to the same side of her face. It hurt like hell, but she kept her feet, even as yet another punch came in and knocked her back a bit.

She swung a bit blindly and missed again, but she was ready for the counter-punch, blocking it. The arms dealer's arm swung towards her again and she caught it, snagging the other wrist and twisting, trying to throw La Ciudad back onto the ground, or maybe she could get a better grip and just break the bitch's wrist altogether…

But La Ciudad held strong, wrestling with her, giving as good as she got. Sarah felt the woman start to push her hands up, but she wouldn't let her get close, and she spun in a circle, wrenching La Ciudad's arms back down.

The woman kicked out with a boot and Sarah blocked it away with her own foot. She came in with the other foot and Sarah kicked that away, too, trying to spot any kind of opening, a way to reach her with her knee maybe. But La Ciudad tried to stomp on her foot. Knowing it would likely break her foot, she focused on getting out of the way, and that gave the other woman the chance to yank herself out of Sarah's grip.

A boot came up into her stomach and she staggered back, the air leaving her lungs. She did a millisecond's worth of a mental and physical status check and thought her ribs were fine, but shit, this was a lot harder than she'd thought it'd be.

She straightened up and met La Ciudad's gaze. She had to take her out fast. No more playing around.

So she swung her leg up, La Ciudad meeting it with a kick of her own. And the woman's leg came up again almost faster than Sarah was ready for. But she just managed to get her leg high enough to block it.

Getting cocky, La Ciudad did a full spin to bring her leg around even harder this time, but Sarah caught it cleanly. But she lost her grip as La Ciudad gave an unexpected yank, and the boot slammed into her face and spun her to land hard on the ground. _Fuck…_

That hurt.

But she saw the sole of a boot coming towards her then as La Ciudad tried to stomp on her again and she rolled out of the way just in time. She tried to crawl away, far enough away that she could get back to her feet, but another boot came down on her lower back and she just managed to catch herself before her face slammed into the metal poles sticking up from the satellite equipment on the roof.

La Ciudad's fists were around her pigtails then as she tried to finish the job, but Sarah grit her teeth and pushed back. She wasn't dying this way. And not on this day.

She reached behind her and grabbed the hand that was wrapped in her pigtails, pulling the arms dealer down close enough so that she could slam her elbow not once, but twice into La Ciudad's God damn face.

Agent Sarah Walker was fucking done with this.

She stood up and spun to face La Ciudad, grabbing the handcuffs she hid in the pocket of her uniform's skirt, swinging them around so that they fit her fist like a makeshift pair of brass knuckles. Watch her stay standing when she gets clocked with this…

But La Ciudad pulled a jagged, wicked-looking knife out of her boot then. Fine. If she was gonna play dirty, then fine.

She came at Sarah with a swing of the knife but Sarah ducked under it and stepped to the side, facing her again, watching for the other woman to project what she'd do next. She came at her with the knife straight on this time, but Sarah blocked it with the cuffs. Another swing, another block.

And as she came in with a third, Sarah brought her arm up against La Ciudad's, then caught it with her fingers around the other woman's wrist, spinning in and jamming her elbow into the arms dealer's stomach, slamming her fist back into her face right after with a quick one, two. And then she repeated the fist to the face, spinning to face La Ciudad as she fell back a few steps.

Sarah didn't let up for a second, using her grip that she still had on La Ciudad's arm to yank her down onto the ground. The woman knelt on one knee and looked up at her, eyes wide. She didn't give her a chance to do anything else.

Without hesitation, Sarah brought her cuff-lined fist down and cracked it into La Ciudad's temple, knocking her out cold. Finally.

Sarah worked fast, grabbing her wrist and rolling her over onto her back, taking quite a bit of satisfaction in the bruise already forming on La Ciudad's face. She cuffed her wrist to the satellite leg and smirked. "Hang here."

And as she walked past, she kicked a bit of extra dirt in La Ciudad's face. Just because.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time, because no one but us demanded it….Michael Bolton! (It was the 80s/90s. We experimented with music. We don't talk about it much...) -DC

I still don't get why Michael Bolton was ever a thing. I don't. -SC


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** DC here: Give me just a sec…*googles megalomania..* I mean that's fair...Oh, hey, you're here...You've all asked for something noncannon...this...this changes everything and next episode...it changes everything again. Because no one demanded it, and as much as SC doesn't understand how Michael Bolton was a thing...we give you Ch 16. SC...take it away.

(Oh, don't worry. I am. (smirk) - SC)

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own anything. It sucks.

* * *

The text from Ellie hadn't been subtle at all when it came an hour after a secret government crew had swept in to clear away the debris. (That was what Casey had called La Ciudad and her musclebound goons. Debris.)

But he'd pulled his phone out of his pocket, apologizing to the customer he was in the middle of helping, and glanced down at the text. _Invite Sarah over tonight for dinner. 7 o'clock._

Chuck knew beyond all doubt that Ellie was trying to help him get back in with this woman she apparently liked enough in spite of only meeting her a few times now. It was sweet but it also made him feel like he had a bruise in his chest that was smarting. She'd probably make this amazing dinner and they'd have a _real_ do over of that night when he'd nearly ruined everything.

He'd called Sarah immediately, admittedly worried when she hadn't shown up again. She and Casey both had just...disappeared. All he knew was that Casey'd spoken to her with his cool watch thingy, that she'd gotten La Ciudad, and then Casey left to help the "clean-up crew".

He imagined Sarah had gone as well.

Should he even call her, he'd wondered? Would she be busy?

But she'd answered. And the line had been quiet after he'd asked if she was okay. And then finally, he'd gotten a quick, "Yes." And, "What is it? Are you okay? Are there more of them?"

"No, no. No, I think you guys got 'em all. I'm okay. I, um, I probably shouldn't have called right now but I wanted to give you a head's up. Or I mean, I don't know if you and Casey will be doing...uh...I mean clean-up stuff all night…"

"Chuck, I have to get back in there...They're doing a briefing with us and I don't want Casey to get too much time talking alone with them." That had seemed odd to him, but he'd hurried on anyway.

"Right, sorry. Can you come for dinner tonight? My place? Ellie's cooking again."

"...Oh. Uh, okay. That's a good idea." For the cover. She hadn't even had to say it. He'd shut his eyes with a sigh. "What time?"

"Seven okay?"

"Yeah. See ya then. You sure everything's okay?"

"Yep. Weird as always."

He'd heard her sniff in amusement, and then they'd hung up.

And now he was here, thirty minutes before seven, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, smelling some amazing something that Ellie was cooking for his not-real-girlfriend who she thought was real.

He'd let everything get under his skin again, and he was still smarting a bit. His life was out of control. And while he was grateful for Casey and Sarah, glad they were at least here to protect him, he felt like he was so far out of his depth that he was surely going to drown eventually, with or without his secret agent handlers.

Not only that, but he'd really been dropping the ball with Ellie. That conversation last night after the date hadn't gone well, and he'd probably hurt her feelings though she'd tried to play it off. He told her almost everything, and he always had, since they were kids. She'd worked to make herself available to him ever since he could remember, and he'd done the same for her.

But he'd really messed up, tiptoeing around the issue the other night, not talking to her.

And now Awesome was in the shower and he had Ellie in the kitchen all by herself. He had to smooth things over. Really and truly, he needed to talk to her about everything that was happening. Well, not everything. But the emotional hang-ups, the feeling of awe he had when he thought about Sarah Walker, about what she was capable of...coupled with his own crippling inadequacies. Morgan's response to his concerns hadn't helped him at all. But he also knew that Morgan was the best friend he'd ever had, and for the most part, honest. He was fully aware of the fact that Morgan also looked up to him a bit and thought the sun shone out of his ass. Maybe it was Piranha, maybe it was the times he stuck up for him when they were kids, diverting the bullying onto himself. Maybe he just loved him that much. Either way, he needed Ellie's wisdom and warmth...and her full honesty. She said things he didn't want to hear but needed to hear. That's what he needed again. He couldn't keep hiding from her.

No, more than anything, he needed to get this off his chest. Sarah was so much more than every being in the universe deserved. That was the crux of the problem. On top of her being a CIA agent. But she was more than simply a CIA agent. She was a woman. An incredible woman. The secret agent slash spy stuff aside, Sarah Walker was a woman worth more than all of this, worth more than him definitely.

He strode down the hallway and walked into the kitchen, feeling worse when Ellie didn't look up at him, keeping her head down as she prepped dinner. And he knew she'd heard him enter.

Chuck didn't beat around the bush. He respected her too much.

"I'm really sorry, sis. I-I know that I've been kind of evasive. It's just that I-I didn't wanna lie to you—" She gave him a bit of a side eye and went back to her work. "And I chose not saying anything as being the lesser of two evils."

He guessed.

Though either way, that was a piss-poor excuse, wasn't it? He could tell by the look she gave him that it was.

"Why would you have to lie to me?" she asked, tossing the vegetables she'd just chopped on top of the salad she was making.

Crap. Crap, this was veering into the spy stuff, the computer in his head, and he didn't want it to. That wasn't what he was trying to do. "Ellie, it—I just need you to trust me and know that it has nothing to do with you."

"But you want me to butt out. I get it. It's none of my business." She grabbed the scraps from the cutting board and pulled away, crossing to the sink and dumping them, the hurt look on her face not at all hidden behind the look she tried to put there instead. She didn't understand and he didn't blame her for not understanding. This wasn't his playbook, it wasn't his modus operandi. He was being different, not himself. Crap.

"No!" he exclaimed. "Nonono, I'm not-I'm not saying that. I don't—I'm not saying that. I…"

He hated this. He hated it. And he was just going to lay it all out there. His insecurity and the real fear he had. Maybe it'd mess with this cover Sarah was trying to cultivate between them. But he couldn't keep acting like Chuck Bartowski dating an incredible, beautiful woman like Sarah Walker was at all normal or expected. As much as he knew his sister was biased, he'd seen that wide-eyed look on her face when she cornered him in his bedroom the first night she met his new flame. It was very much a _how did you manage this?_ sort of look.

He turned and looked at his sister's face. And his shoulders slumped.

"I just don't want to create a false sense of excitement for a relationship that seems doomed." And he felt that in the pit of his soul. In more ways than his sister could ever know.

"Why is it doomed?" she asked, a look of pure _what the hell_ on her face. She crossed back to the salad bowl and he slumped further, taking in his sister, knowing he'd already gone far enough down this path and he couldn't go back now.

"Because she's not into me."

There it was. And saying it out loud, knowing how true it was, the cover bullshit aside, felt like he'd just gotten kicked in the chest. Hard. He'd been into girls and then women who were far out of his league before. It was part of life. But this one felt way worse. Way, way worse. Because Bryce had to send him that fucking email. Because the CIA then sent the coolest, most fascinating, warmest, fittest, most gorgeous bad ass agent they had right to his doorstep and told him he had to pretend she was his girlfriend. And the pretending was so damn easy, because she was more of a woman than he could ever dream up in his vivid imagination. What was hard was not letting himself lose control of the pretending. He'd already lost his footing with her. She was _too much_ to resist. It was too easy to want it to be real.

And now he was fully aware of just how drawn to her he was, just how much he relied on her—and not just in the way she'd come to his aid last night, bursting into the room and shooting at bad guys, risking her life to save his. But the way she laid a hand on his arm to ease his nerves, or the way she smiled at him sometimes. It was like she was essentially laying a warm blanket over him as he shivered from the cold. Or something else poetic like that. And after only a week, he was relying on her for way too much. He was a burden more than anything.

She was there when he needed her, because it was her job. She was coming tonight because it was her job to make sure Ellie and Awesome, Morgan, everyone else, thought she was his girlfriend. She was good at her job.

But he knew beyond all doubt that the things he felt towards her weren't anything she could ever possibly return. That was just crazy wishful thinking. He couldn't even get a second date from _regular_ women—women who weren't secret agents or as flawlessly gorgeous as Agent Sarah Walker.

He expected nothing from her. He didn't deserve anything from her. He was sure no man did.

Ellie seemed to disagree. Still preparing the salad, and without even looking at him, she muttered a semi-distracted, "Uh, trust me. I have seen the way that girl looks at you and she is into you."

That made Chuck pause. Just for a moment. Had Ellie fallen hook line and sinker for the cover? Or was she actually...seeing something? That was crazy. Crazy talk. But...he couldn't help prompting his sister for more. "...Really?"

"It's none of my business," she said.

He inwardly chuckled at the way she'd played him. Because she had to know he wasn't letting it go _now_. Trickster.

"Okay, no. Okay, fine, what the hell?" He crossed to her. He needed more. He needed her wisdom, yes, but he could use one of her pep talks at this point. He really could. The way she usually tended to buoy his spirits. "What do you—What do you wanna ask me about Sarah?"

"Really?" Ellie asked dubiously. She continued fiddling with tossing the salad, looking like she wasn't all that interested in telling him anything at all at this point.

"You better hurry up. This offer will not last."

He nearly chuckled at the way she spun towards him, a beaming, excited smile on her face. "Okay." She took a deep breath and looked him right in the eye. "Do you like her?"

Cover answer or real answer? That was the real question. Which should he give her? And then he realized that both answered would be the same. The cover answer was the same as the real answer. So he just nodded. "Yeah."

She squeaked, pulling her hands up and folding them under her chin. He pointed at her with a, "Ah! No no…No unnecessary excitement."

Still beaming, she lowered her arms to her side and cleared her throat, making a valiant effort at stemming the excitement in her face, though not completely succeeding. He couldn't help but love her for it, though.

"Sorry," she said, composing herself. "Sorry."

"What else?" he asked, his arms crossed.

"That's it."

"That's it?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Chuck. That's it." She got all serious again, even putting a hand on her hip. "I don't need to know the intimate details, okay?" _Oh God…_ "As long as you're happy, that's enough for me. And I don't—I don't wanna nag you about your future and your job. I don't want to be this sister that just pesters you into oblivion…"

And there it was. Proof that he'd gotten under her skin, made her self-reflect and pull back. He'd made her feel bad about pushing him, asking questions, like she was hovering or bossing him around. She had been...a little. But he'd needed it. If he could just tell her everything, it'd all be okay, but he couldn't. And that was why he'd been pulling away.

He interrupted her, trying to smooth things over, make her feel not as bad. "Nonono. You're-You're not a pest." He met her eyes solidly. "I promise you're not."

Ellie smiled just a little, at least, her eyes did. "I just know what an incredible guy Charles Bartowski is." He felt a smile growing on his face. This was what he'd been hoping for, deep down inside. Some validation. Some self-esteem. "And sometimes, I'm not so sure that he knows it."

That was really what it all came down to, wasn't it? But what did he have to base his self-esteem off of? Besides these moments when Ellie, Morgan, and Devon swept in to tell him he was okay, that he wasn't the putz he thought he was…

He had to try to trust Ellie, even if he knew it wouldn't make any real difference with Agent Walker, the CIA agent—with Agent Sarah Walker, the CIA agent and woman.

"How do you feel about a brother-sister hug situation right now?"

She made a face. "I'm open to it."

"Okay." He went in and they grinned, wrapping one another up in a tight hug. He chuckled and squeezed harder, just as the doorbell rang. "Oh. Okay, I'll go grab it."

He let go of his sister and hurried out of the kitchen towards the door. That'd be Sarah. And he suddenly felt a lot better about...things. He was going to take it for what it was.

}o{

Sarah walked into the Echo Park courtyard. Graham had been…..surprised with the mission outcome and that was bothersome. Was he surprised they had succeeded where no one else had? Was he surprised the Intersect worked that way? Or was he surprised Chuck could make the Intersect work? So many questions, but right now the biggest one was what was she doing here? She shook her head. She _knew_ what she was doing here, but the problem was how much she enjoyed being here. She never remembered having...fun on a mission. Terrified, sure, that she was used to, but enjoying a mission.

She imagined he'd double over with laughter if he found out she'd explained why she'd approached the MI-6 agent by saying they thought he was Michael Bolton. It was such a half-assed attempt at covering their asses and it was hilarious looking back on it now. And then she imagined Chuck might tease her about not knowing any other music but still knowing Michael Bolton. He'd tease her in that Chuck way of his—with the sparkle in his eye—so different from the CAT Squad and how vicious and unrelenting the barbs were. That was less teasing and more...she didn't know what.

Anyway, she hadn't seen Chuck all day, as busy as she and Casey had been with clean-up, debriefing. It had miffed her a bit that they hadn't wanted Chuck in on the debrief, considering he'd been just as involved in the mission as she and Casey had been. Maybe she'd find a time tonight to tell him about Michael Bolton, or maybe she shouldn't… Because this wasn't the first time she'd thought or done something amusing and immediately wanted to share it with Chuck. Not exactly like she wanted his approval, but she just wanted to share one of those moments with him, or maybe it was the way he sounded and looked when he laughed. It was spirit lifting. And maybe she was a little selfish.

Maybe she shouldn't have come here tonight. She was suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. Like maybe she wanted to be alone, _should_ be alone. Dropping herself into this familial situation with these warm people, having them pull her in like they seemed like they might… maybe she wasn't in the best place for that suddenly… She halted in the middle of the courtyard.

"Sarah?" She knew that voice, it was Morgan.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw him slowly walking towards her. "Hey, Morgan."

"You cutting in on guy time?"

Sarah gave him a long side eyed look. "Uh, I'm pretty sure Chuck invited me."

Morgan drew himself up a little….well, as much as such a short man could, but draw himself up he did. "Okay, well, I hope you enjoy watching us play video games."

Sarah knew this was her chance to get away. This was her chance to say something came up, that she thought he had made plans with Morgan and she wasn't going to be that kind of girlfriend.

She should run, but Morgan had challenged her, and she needed to impress him. That was exactly what she kept telling herself and not believing a word of it as he rang the doorbell. Chuck opened the door and Morgan looked over at Sarah and then back to Chuck. Sarah smirked at the side of Morgan's head, then switched it over to Chuck.

She was impressed with Morgan's attempt to sound innocent. "Sorry. I thought we had plans tonight, you know? What is she doing here?"

Chuck glanced at Sarah, confused. "What, uh, what gave you that impression?"

"Uh, when you were leaving earlier and you were like, see you later, dude." Sarah watched him reenact the wave. Deep down, she was glad. She was glad Chuck had someone like that in his life. He needed it. After all the CIA, NSA, and everything else took away from him, he had Morgan. A lot of people would say that wasn't a fair trade. She wasn't so sure. A friend who had your back in everything…. "Took you at your word. It's cool if you don't want me to be here; that's fine. Just gotta stop giving me mixed signals."

Chuck glanced at her and she smiled at him. _Yes, Chuck, invite him in._ "Come on in."

"Super. Awesome. What are we having?"

He made her chuckle and as he ran in like he was scared the invitation might be rescinded, she walked up to Chuck, handing him the bottle of wine. "Here you go."

He took it from her. "Oh, thank you. Thank you." He glanced away, probably at his sister, and he leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Part of her loved that, part of her…she pushed that down the best she could. "Ouch." He pointed to his lip, concern on his face. "You okay?

She grinned. She wanted to say you should have seen her opponent, but she didn't need Ellie thinking she fought in an underground fight club. "Uh, occupational hazard." Chuck nodded, concern still on his face. She thought it was adorable and she really couldn't help herself with what she did next. "She got in a lucky kick." She gave a slight shoulder bounce, a smirk, and walked in. She caught the slow grin that grew on his face. God, why couldn't other guys be like him? Not only did he have no problem with her being good at what she did, he liked it. She knew somewhere, someday, someone was going to be lucky enough to have Chuck Bartowski care about them, and they'd be free to care for him in return. Right now she felt a little jealous of that mystery person, but she had a job to do, so for the time being she pretended she was that someone, and it really wasn't that hard to pretend.

}o{

The dinner wrapped up, and as usual, Chuck offered to walk her out to her car. She hated having to leave, but if she stayed any later, someone would suggest she spend the night and Chuck didn't need that kind of pressure. Most nights it would be hard enough for him, but after what he had been through the past few days...no, that was a bad idea. As she left, and he followed her out, she felt he needed to know how he had done, and she really wanted to be the one to tell him, which was good, because no one else assigned to this mission was going to.

She turned towards him as she walked. "Congratulations on your first mission. You did really good, Chuck."

"Stop it." He was being as self-deprecating as ever. "I'm not really a spy. Your computer ended up in the head of a guy who only knows how to fix 'em, nothing else."

 _Uh, no. Not today, Curls._ _Today you are going to hear what you did, and you are going to get the praise you deserve._ "You survived a near-death experience under the threat of torture and apprehended one of the world's most elusive killers." She turned towards him so he could see exactly how serious she was. "I'm not sure what you think spies do exactly, but most of us would consider that a pretty good day."

"Okay, sure, so today I helped take down a major international arms dealer, but tomorrow, tomorrow I still gotta go clock in at Buy More. I mean, what's the good of being a hero if nobody knows about it?"

WHAT'S THE GOOD?! She took a calming breath. "You know." God, that wasn't enough. He needed more. He deserved more, and she had to be the one, because there was no one else. This was part of her job. She kept repeating that in her head. "And so do I."

His face softened, a slight grin covered his face, and for a moment, she forgot he was her asset and she was a spy. They were just two people that did like each other, that respected each other, that, if she were honest, cared about each other. Their actions had shown that over the last week. He pulled his top lip between his teeth. He did a little shoulder move like he was trying to be nonchalant. "You know, if we were really dating, this would be the part where I'd be forced to kiss you good night."

The grin grew on her face. The cheeky nerd. _Not bad, Chuck, not bad at all._ Two could play at this game. Saying something like that in front of the fountain, in the courtyard, in the moonlight. "Forced?" She decided to up the game and took a step toward him. "Would it be so bad?"

He looked like a deer caught in headlights, but like always, he recovered quickly. "I'm sure I could suffer through it."

Oh, the grin, the smarmy grin, and he took a step toward her, leaving very little room between them. The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Me, too." He bent down slowly, giving her a chance to run, a chance to stop this, but she couldn't. She knew she shouldn't. She ABSOLUTELY knew she should NOT do this. She put her hand on his chest, lightly, his eyes met hers and she flicked her own towards the door. She mouthed the word, "Morgan," and what was almost fireworks was a soft peck on the lips. His face was troubled.

"I had a great night, thanks, we'll talk _tomorrow_." She raised her eyebrows. He nodded, still looking upset. She gently curled her fingers around his wrist making him look at her. "I had a great time," she made sure the smile on her face showed that. His face slowly changed to a grin.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Talk tomorrow?" Her eyes told him it wasn't a question, and he nodded. She started to walk away mentally berating herself for letting that almost happen but as she walked away, she overhead Morgan say the worst possible thing.

"Man, that dude is creepy." Sarah turned and looked where they couldn't see her and there was John peering out from between his shades, pointing at his eyes and then pointing at Chuck. Shit! He saw what had happened.

"Agreed," Chuck replied. He looked in Sarah's direction but she didn't think Chuck saw her. She hurried to her car. She had to do something, quick, because this rollercoaster was doing things to her it wasn't supposed to.

}o{

Chuck had just filled out his time card, shrugging his Buy More jacket on over his Nerd Herd uniform, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He figured it was Ellie, asking him to pick up dinner maybe, or asking him what he wanted for dinner. He couldn't remember if she had a shift tonight or not, come to think about it.

But when he took his phone out, he saw the text wasn't from his sister, but from his cover girlfriend. He frowned immediately as the night before's scene swept back into his brain like a horrific nightmare.

It hadn't been horrific at all, though. It was exactly what he should have expected. The fact that he'd even expected anything else was ridiculous, and he was still kicking himself about it now, all these hours later, after a fitful sleep and a rough morning. His afternoon had gotten a bit better, finding enough distraction in his work, willing himself to simply stop thinking about Sarah's kindly gentle rejection.

He was grateful to her for not recoiling or running. She just put a gentle hand on his chest and kept him from kissing her the way he wanted to, the way he'd stupidly thought she might want to, as well. They'd been teasing, flirting even, but what right did he have to expect a kiss—a real kiss?

"Idiot," he muttered, pulling up Sarah's text.

 _Meet me at my car in the lot when you clock out. It's two rows from the WL side entrance._

He didn't much want to face her after last night. He wanted to get in a Herder and take it home, then tell her later he was really sorry but he hadn't seen her text until he got home. It had been a long day, he was tired, and he hadn't even thought about his phone…

Chuck was ashamed. He was ashamed he'd gone in for the kiss in the first place. He'd gotten caught up in how much fun the dinner had ended up being, how loose Sarah had felt sitting next to him, and how she'd eagerly told him about the MI-6 agent the night before, trying to play off her following him as thinking he was Michael Bolton. God, he'd laughed so hard and he'd spotted Ellie throwing a furtive and happy glance over at them as they sat on the couch, "enjoying" the first semi-alone time they had together all day. He'd gotten so comfortable with the cover and he'd flirted, and yes, she had flirted back… He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. That was stupid.

And part of him had thought he could play it off as just working on their cover because he _knew_ Morgan was there. But Sarah was too smart. They'd both thought they were alone. He wasn't going to do her the disservice of trying to pretend. They both had known he had tried to kiss her. Not her, Sarah Walker who worked at the Wienerlicious and was dating Chuck Bartowski, the Nerd Herd supervisor. But her, Agent Sarah Walker, not his girlfriend by any means and instead a bad ass spy who was with the CIA.

He didn't bother texting her back. Instead he strode out of the Buy More, ignoring everything and everyone around him, and he walked across the parking lot towards the Wienerlicious. Sarah was already out there, leaning against the driver's side door of her Porsche.

God, she drove a Porsche. He'd tried to kiss a woman who drove a damn Porsche around the greater Los Angeles area, and he was such a dumbass. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier as she spotted him behind her sunglasses and lifted a hand to wave a bit. Her grin felt very cover-y, but he swallowed his pride and grinned back just as big.

"Hi," he said as he neared her. She glanced over her shoulder and he followed her gaze, seeing Scooter walk out of the Wienerlicious to wipe down the outdoor seating area's tables. When his eyes lifted to peer out at them, Chuck felt Sarah's hands coil in his jacket lapels and she tugged him in for a warm hug.

He looked away from Scooter altogether, letting his eyes shut as he felt her squeeze for just a moment. And then she pulled back and gave his chest an affectionate pat. "Hi. Um...done with work?"

"All done. I'd ask if you needed a ride, but you're currently leaning against a way cooler mode of transportation than a Herder could ever freakin' be." He snorted.

She smirked and shook her head. "Actually, I was going to give you the ride. If you can."

Chuck's eyes popped. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah. Get in."

Sarah unlocked the car doors and he went around to the passengers side, opening the door and very carefully easing himself into the seat, having to fold his legs up and nearly curl them into his chest to shut the door again. Once they were both inside, away from any prying ears, he turned to look at her. "Everything okay? Did something happen? Ellie? Devon?..."

"What? No. No, no. Everything is okay. Every _one_. Don't worry."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

He stayed silent as she began their journey, but after a few minutes, he was able to gauge where they were...or rather, where they _weren't_. And he realized belatedly that she wasn't taking him on the roads that would lead him home.

What exactly was she playing at, he wondered? But he didn't ask. He trusted her. He'd learned his lesson there.

Sarah took an exit to get off of the freeway, steering them towards downtown, and he thought he might have an inkling as to where they were going. Why, he didn't know. But Sarah seemed content with the silence permeating through the car, so he stuck with it, watching the sights out of his window.

And when she finally pulled into the lot at Maison23, it confirmed Chuck's theory. As she parked, Chuck finally cleared his throat. "Uh, i-is Casey meeting us here? Is there some sort of briefing or...?"

"No, this isn't about Casey. You and I need to talk. My room is the only place without cameras or bugs."

He went a little pale as she got out of the car, and it took him a moment to pull himself together before he also got out, following her inside through the side door. As they climbed into the elevator, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What, uh, what exactly are we talking about? Better question: no cameras or bugs? Does that mean I'm being bugged? That there are cameras in my home?"

Sarah took a deep breath, her lips thin as she looked away. "There is some surveillance around your home, yes. We need to know who is coming and going at all times. Most of it is in the courtyard and out on the patio in back."

"But in my...bedroom? Oh my God, do they have a camera in my bathroom? Does the government do tha—?"

"Sh!" She closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm tightly, not to hurt him, but just to get his attention. It worked. "Maybe lower your voice a bit, Chuck. And no, of course we don't have surveillance in your bathroom. We're trying to keep you safe, not peep on you."

"Oh." Relief spilled through him. "But my bedroom?"

"There…" She sighed and shrugged. "Look, I'm not in charge of that. The NSA is. Casey is."

"No wonder he hates me so much. Morgan and I have had some really long conversations about…" He saw he'd piqued her curiosity maybe, so he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Uh, nothing."

She smirked. "Just know that any surveillance set up isn't there to catch you at anything, isn't there to see you in your boxers or something like that…" But then how did she know he was a boxers guy? He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that thought. "It's there for your protection. What you have in your head is...is important. I'm not even sure just how important, if I'm being fully honest with you. But important enough that I'm here. Important enough that...that Bryce died for it."

He felt trepidation and she squeezed his arm. The elevator reached her floor and dinged, the door sweeping open. She gave him a bit of a long look, as if she was surveying him, and then she walked out, glancing down the hallway, first left, then right. "Okay, come on," she said, waving him after her.

They hurried to her room and it wasn't until they were on the other side of the green door that Chuck felt like he could lower his guard a bit. "So what is this talk—?"

Her finger was over his lips this time. "Give me a few minutes…But don't say a word, okay?"

Chuck gulped and nodded. For the next two minutes, he watched as she made a systematic sweep of the room, her fingers methodical and quick in their perusal, under ledges on furniture, lampshades, window panes, behind artwork hung on the walls, and then she disappeared into the bathroom.

It sent a chill through him. And he was reminded again by just how serious and dangerous his life was now, how intense this whole thing was. How intense _Sarah_ was.

She came back out and nodded. "Okay, we're good."

"You, um, you usually get people bugging you?"

"Not in this operation. At least, not yet. But it's important that I check. Just in case."

"Who would do that?"

"Literally anybody."

"L-Like the CIA?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. He thought she probably checked the room every time she walked into it. Two or three minutes of checking for small bugs or cameras, perhaps justifiably paranoid that someone—even her own agency—is bugging her. For whatever reason. It was upsetting to think of someone having to live her life like that.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him and blinked. "What?"

"Before Bryce sent me that email, I never thought about stuff like this. I never realized people lived their lives in this way. Always worried someone might be listening in on their…" He cleared his throat. "What, uh, what'd you bring me here for, Sarah? I know you said to talk, but what...what about?"

She seemed to shake herself a bit, focusing, and she huffed, crossing her arms at her chest. "Right. Um...I told you last night that we'd talk today. So it's today and…"

"Oh." He cleared his throat and nodded. "Listen. Sarah. I-I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have tried to kiss you out there. In the courtyard. That-That wasn't okay."

She watched him through her eyelashes, then lifted her chin a bit, shrugging a little. "Look. Chuck, first of all, you don't owe me an apology for that. I had a good time, with you, with Ellie, and Morgan, even though he's been a little...er…"

"Jealous?" he filled in for her. She winced. "Yeah, sorry. It's probably a good indication that our cover is doing it's job, though. He never got like that about other girls I went on dates with."

"Oh. Good. But my point is that I maybe enjoyed myself enough that I became a bit comfortable and I let things get, um, too far."

He sought to drive that idea out of her mind. "No, Sarah. You didn't—"

"I did, Chuck. Don't give me the benefit of the doubt," she interrupted. "It's very kind of you, but I don't need you taking the blame for everything all the time. This situation is incredibly new and difficult for you. And that's something I think the rest of us might be losing sight of." She shook her head. "I flirted with you and I shouldn't have, Chuck."

He felt the heat flare up from under his collar as he stared at her. "Oh. I-I mean, okay."

"I think nobody heard it, which is good. But Casey may or may not have been watching, and that's not good. If he thought something was going on here," she gestured between them, "outside of this cover act we're putting on...I-I mean, underneath it...I have no way of knowing who he might be talking to about it, or what he might do."

Chuck shook his head, taking a step back. He couldn't handle this thing again. "Wait, wait. Hold on. Please, not this again. Please don't tell me I can't trust him. He's a little _too_ America-can-do-no-wrong patriotic and he says mean stuff to me, like, a lot, but I thought I could trust him to protect me."

"No, no. Chuck, that's not it. I'm not trying to make you distrust him. Or anybody. I'm not. I promise. You can trust Casey. He's an asshole, but he would take a bullet to protect you. Just as I would." Chuck immediately found that to be the worst possible thing he'd ever heard in his entire twenty six years of life. The idea of someone else willingly dying to protect him; the idea of Sarah doing that in particular, nearly made him feel sick with dizziness.

It must have shown on his face because Sarah's hand was wrapped around his bicep again. "Hey, what is it? You okay? Did—Did you flash on something?"

He shook his head, trying to get rid of this fog that had settled there, and he moved with her so that she could guide him to sit on the edge of her bed. "I'm fine. No flash. I'm good."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks." His gaze snapped up to hers again, as she leaned down to look into his face, checking on him. "You're hinting that Casey might tell your superiors—the, um, director and General Beckman."

"If he thought I might be a hindrance to your protection? Absolutely. I-I might do the same if I were in his shoes." She sighed and moved to sit on the bed next to him. "I have to be on my guard one hundred percent of the time, Chuck. I need to be warm in the appropriate moments, affectionate in the appropriate moments." She took a deep breath, then turned to look at him steadily. "I gave you an idea that I shouldn't have. And you weren't in the wrong when you tried to act on it. You need to know that. I'm not—I'm not upset with you. You didn't do anything wrong."

Chuck furrowed his brow and looked down at his lap, nodding slowly. "Okay."

"My number one priority is keeping you safe. No matter what, I have to be here while all of this is happening. Until this program can be taken out of your head, until you're out of danger and the intelligence community gets their talons out of you, out of your life, I have to be here. Because I don't think there's a single agent out there who can do what I can. What I _will_ …"

She seemed to leave that last part hanging, whether on purpose or not, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. Most importantly, in spite of the determination in her face, a determination that was drawing him towards her like a moth to a flame (despite her warning), he thought he saw something else underneath. It wasn't worry or nerves, so much as she just looked...unsure. And he couldn't stop himself from asking…

"Sarah, what is it?"

The CIA agent lifted her gaze to his and raised an eyebrow, almost as if she was surprised he'd noticed something was amiss in her features. "Nothing."

Chuck just gave her a look. "Sarah, if I'm in trouble—more trouble than I'm already in—I need you to tell me. What's going on here? What you said about Casey telling your superiors, maybe getting you pulled from this...er, me… And the way they act like I'm a piece of priceless furniture or something, rather than a person with a life. How I still don't know what the fuck this thing is that's inside of my head. What's going on?"

She was silent for a long time. He guessed nearly two minutes went by and he let them, watching as a storm erupted in her gorgeous blue eyes. Finally, she ducked her head, shut her eyes, and opened them again with a deep breath, lifting her head and looked at him. Seriously looking at him.

"You have basically the same amount of information that I have, Chuck. Maybe more because you have that...I mean the secrets in your head." He felt himself starting to sweat, a chill going through him. "I'm not sure that I've been...fully read in on the situation. First of all, on what this is, how it's even possible. And second of all, why Bryce stole it and sent it to someone else who was...a regular civilian. Instead of some...I don't know, like Dr. Zarnow...he could sell it to North Korea or something." She swallowed and looked straight ahead, folding her hands in her lap and straightening her spine. "It isn't that I don't trust Director Graham or Beckman, Chuck. And I don't want you to stop trusting them, either. We're all here to keep you safe."

"You just aren't sure of their reasoning," he said quietly. "Which leads me to ask this question: If their reason for protecting me, whatever it might be, changes...could their need to protect me also change?"

He nearly shook as he spoke, but he just managed to hold it together. Sarah was being completely on the level with him, and he had a feeling she definitely wasn't supposed to be doing this. Hence the secretive way she stole him away from the Buy More after his shift and brought him here to her private residence. Without, he assumed, informing her partner. She was trusting him, like he was expected to trust her. And he wasn't letting her down again. He bit his cheek to remain calm.

"I don't think it will," she said, and he stared at her, looking for signs that she was lying to him. "That's the truth." She met his eyes steadily. "But this cover needs to be a cover. And when you and I meet like this, it needs to be for a really good reason, and we need to be careful. I don't think Graham or Beckman would do anything that might lead to you being hurt, but I'm also trying to keep you from being disappeared to a bunker. You'd be a lot safer there."

He nodded, wracked with an even worse chill. "No, I know. I'd be...a wreck. But safe from people like La Ciudad."

"I need to be at my very best, and...and I need to not let me guard down. I need to stay alert. I'm going to try to find out more without anybody know I'm doing it."

"You think Casey knows more than you do?"

"I don't know. I don't know if Beckman filled him in on more than what I got. He could know more and he was ordered to keep it to himself. He could know what this is. He was there when Bryce was killed…"

She didn't have to finish that thought. And she seemed upset for a moment, enough that she didn't much want to finish it. He put it together himself, though. "They killed him for it, so they had to know what it was they were killing him for." He blinked. "I'm not sure if that made sense."

Sarah sniffed in amusement. "It did." She seemed like she might say more, but then she looked at him and stayed quiet instead.

"I get it, Sarah. Don't worry. I'm not gonna try to force anything. I-I don't wanna end up in a bunker, and while I have to trust the others to keep me safe, I can't do anything to pull you away from your job—the actual reason why you're here. You're...maybe...the only person who can keep me here, with my people. My life has changed...probably irrecoverably, if we're being honest here…" She ducked her head, a frustrated look on her face. "But I still have it. And I'd like to keep it, no matter what shape it's in."

She nodded, and then she smiled at him. "Thank you, Chuck." And then she sighed. "And last night—"

"It won't happen again."

"No, it can't. But the cover needs to remain intact when we're around other people. Can you—Can you do that?"

"Yes." He could. He had to. A lot was riding on his ability to do this. "I won't make this difficult for you, Sarah."

"I'd like to do my part not to make it difficult for you, either, though. I'm sorry for last night."

"Sarah. Really. You don't have to…"

"I do." She stuck a hand out towards him. "But we're agreed on this. Right?"

He took her hand, fighting the empty pit in his stomach. She hadn't given him any idea as to the inner workings of her mind—of her emotions. Not even a hint of a clue. Had she flirted because she was sort of into him that night? And her job, her duty, had kicked in and she'd stopped him? It was seeming more and more like that hadn't been the case. Like any normal human being interacting with another, she'd gotten comfortable and loose from the fine dining and laughter and the red wine, and she'd gotten cute with him. He didn't blame her.

He wished there was a way he could tell her he didn't blame her. That he trusted her. But he was hurting now. And he thought he'd just let it go. He'd felt a rising hope in him at the way Ellie had glanced at him over the dinner table last night, after that talk they'd had. She'd eyed Sarah and sent him a meaningful eyebrow raise, as though saying, "See? I told you. She's into you." And he'd let himself fall for it, buy into her enthusiasm.

He shouldn't have let that happen. He'd gotten cute with Sarah, too. But because he...had feelings for her. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But he definitely did.

Chuck was going to let her do her job, because she was protecting his life, and his freedom on top of that, and he feared others weren't as worried about the latter.

"Thanks for laying it out for me," he said quietly, looking down at his lap.

"Please, don't be afraid. I mean, I get being afraid. This is all really intense. I know. A week and a half into this, I don't expect you to not be afraid. If you weren't afraid, you wouldn't be taking this seriously enough." She shook her head. "But I didn't say all of this to freak you out, Chuck. To make you feel like you're alone, like I'm the only one you can trust. I said it so that you know what's at stake and why moments like last night...It'd just be incredibly foolish. As harmless as it might be for two regular people in a regular situation, my superiors would see it very differently."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Okay." She eyed him, surveying him again, and then she nodded once, resolutely. "Good."

Sarah put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed then. "If it's okay, I'm just gonna change and take my hair out of these stupid pigtails, and then I'll take you home."

"Sure. Take your time." He sent her a closed-mouth smile as she got up and started moving around her room. He waited for her to duck into her bathroom to change before he covered his face with his hands.

 _Damn it._

* * *

 **A/N:** We're doing the thing. Stick around for more! Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** *DC locks himself in room* ANGST! SC you tricked me into writing angst! And we got an oof! I don't do oof! What have you done to me?!

(Y'all can't see me but I'm over here putting a monocle over my eye. It's gonna be woooorth iiiiiit. -SC)

I would like to apologize for the last chapter…..there was supposed to be more Michael Bolton but we realized it didn't fit so it's been cut and stored in the fluff cut folder. (IT'S A THING) It will be back. I promise. As to the chapter…Guys...it's us. A little more pain now a lot less later. And yeah, it's different, Chuck knows the truth so how's he going to deal? We deal with that this ep (not chapter, but ep).

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own "Chuck" and we're mad about it.

(Sarah retail voice) Enjoy!

* * *

"Enjoy!"

She kept the saccharine smile on her face until the young family left with their corndogs and French fries, and the moment the bell jingled at the shutting of the door, the smile died. She glanced at her watch. Technically, she wasn't supposed to be off the clock for another fifteen minutes, but she'd had enough hotdogs, oil, and potatoes, and Scooter's constant hovering was making her feel a bit homicidal.

She thought maybe she should make a bit of a dossier on her boss and figure out if he had family. That might make it easier for her not to kill him the next time he wordlessly pointed at a spot on the window after she'd just cleaned them, that sniveling look on his face.

It was the Wienerlicious, after all, not Buckingham Palace.

Throwing the cloth in the Dirty Things Bin, she went into the tiny break room and grabbed her purse.

"Uh, Miss Walker…? You're still on the clock for fifteen minutes. Where are you going?"

Oh. She hadn't seen Scooter there. Damn.

"I, um...doctor's appointment. Didn't I tell you? Can't be late for that."

"Didn't you have a doctor's appointment the other day?"

"Mhm...Yes. I did." _Woops._ "Um, thing is...Well, I can't really tell you, can I? HIPAA and all. Bye."

As she rushed out of there, she heard him mutter in a confused voice, "I'm...not a doctor…"

She hurried across the parking lot towards the Buy More, but stopped halfway there as the conversation a few nights ago washed back into her mind. She'd seen Chuck since then and they'd kept to the cover, quietly eating lunch outside of the Wienerlicious together. But then he'd hugged her quickly and rushed back to the Buy More.

At least he hadn't been awkward before that. Lunch had been comfortable, neither of them seeming to want to chat too much. They'd joked around. He seemed all right, in spite of her having to lay down some rules the night before.

He was Chuck, though, wasn't he? Understanding, listening...that was what he did. And maybe that was part of the reason why she'd said those things in the courtyard, let herself get too comfortable. As though every last aspect of this man's life didn't literally hang in the balance. As though he didn't depend on her to keep him alive, to keep him out of a bunker. As though she was a regular girl, instead of an agent in the CIA. As though he didn't have some sort of insane program full of secrets in his head somehow.

At least she felt better now that she'd talked to Chuck, now that she'd been honest with him. She wasn't sure he felt better, but she hoped he could at least appreciate that she wasn't keeping everything from him, that she was being as honest and forthcoming as she was capable of without putting him in even more danger.

Though part of her wondered if she should have told him her fears about not being in the loop, where she felt Casey had been brought in. Did she needlessly give him a sense of dread as a result? That hadn't been her intention.

As Sarah stepped inside of the Buy More, she spotted Chuck standing on top of the Nerd Herd desk, looking like an absolute giant up there, a pair of pliers dangling from his mouth as he reached up to fiddle with some wires in the Nerd Herd sign.

She stopped and looked at him for a moment. She'd done the right thing, admitting the worry she had about her superiors and Casey. Specifically, the fact that she'd told Chuck felt right. She not only trusted him with that small admission of her suspicions (perhaps even paranoia, but when you were in the CIA whatever you were paranoid about was probably real), but it felt important that he understood why she'd put her hand on his chest, why she'd stopped him. So much hung in the balance. There were so many unanswered questions.

And anything that might conflict with her ability to keep on her toes, see things coming before they arrived—especially if they were dangerous things—couldn't happen. Not that it really would've happened.

That was what she told herself as she walked down the aisle towards him.

"Hey…" she called up to him quietly, trying not to startle him.

Thankfully, he wasn't startled. No necks were broken.

Instead he looked down over his shoulder and grinned around the handle of the pliers, taking them out of his mouth and waving with them. "Hi. Um. Girlfriend."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as he hurriedly slipped the sign back over the wires. "Need this screwdriver down here?"

She asked him right as he was pulling the small recognizable one from his pants pocket. He froze, looking down at it, then at her, then at the screwdriver she held. "No, I—Um. Yes." He shoved the little screwdriver back in his pocket. "Yes, thank you."

He reached a hand down and she put the screwdriver in his palm, unable to keep from smiling. Why was he so genuinely sweet? Why did he insist on doing these small things, completely unintentional which made it all the sweeter? Like she cared whether he used his own screwdriver or the one she'd offered to pass up to him. It was such a stupidly small kindness and she'd never met anyone like Chuck Bartowski ever in her entire life.

"Voila!" he said, crouching down on the desk, reaching behind the counter, his tongue poking out between his lips and his eyes narrowing. And then she heard a switch flick and the Nerd Herd sign lit up. "S'it good?"

"Perfect."

"Nice." He set the screwdriver down, then shifted his legs so that he was sitting on the desk this time, his legs dangling down beside her. "Hi."

"Hi. Uh, and just so you know, you don't specifically have to call me 'girlfriend'. It could maybe sound sort of...forced…?"

His eyes widened. "Does it sound forced?"

"No. No, no… But it, you know, it _could_."

Sighing, he nodded. "Sorry. You're right." He looked at his watch. "Off already?"

"Uh. Yep." She raised her eyebrows and smiled. He didn't need to know she wasn't off for another ten minutes but that she'd lied about an appointment and just left early because she couldn't be bothered to stand there for an extra fifteen.

"Good. I, um, actually have a question."

"Oh?" Uh oh…

"You don't have to be nervous," he said, an amused look on his face.

"I'm not."

"Kay." He obviously didn't believe her, the amusement still there. "Well, I mean...maybe you should be a liiiittle nervous." He held his hand up, his thumb and forefinger close together. She gave him a dubious look. "We're thinking of maybe having a fun game night sort of thing tonight. Sort of a double date but not a date-date. Just, um, hanging out. Drinks. Games. Intense competition."

She laughed. "Intense, huh?"

"I know I seem super sweet, Sarah...and I am, mostly...but put Monopoly in front of me, and I become a monster. I literally swindled Morgan into poverty at least twice and that's just in the last year or so." He gave off a sinister chuckle that was just a little cute. "Oh, the hotels I manipulated off of him. Heh. heh. Heh."

Giggling, she shook her head. "Try that shit with me, buster, and you'll find yourself in the poor house."

He grinned. "So is that a yes on game night?"

"Oh, hell yeah! That's a hell yeah on game night! I'll be there, bro!"

Sarah winced at the sound of Morgan's voice. The guy really couldn't just do his job, could he? Instead he had to hover. He was the true definition of a helicopter friend, wasn't he? Always hovering...

Chuck turned as his best friend rounded the desk with his arms crossed. "Morgan, not to exclude you or anything, but I was asking Sarah specifically, 'cause—"

"No, no. I get it. I get it." Morgan held his hands up. "Only couples. Exclude the single guy. Sure. Makes sense." He crossed his arms again. "I got single guy stuff to do anyway."

"Morgannn…" Chuck groaned.

"Just seems kinda messed up, ya know? I mean, just 'cause you have a new lady...a good one. Of course." But with the way the bearded man eyed her, a small amount of something akin to protectiveness in his face, she wondered if Morgan actually thought she was all that good. Or was this just jealousy? A fear that this new woman in Chuck's life would mean he'd be spending less time with the one person who actually seemed to enjoy Morgan's company? That felt mean, but...it was kind of true, wasn't it? Morgan didn't hang out with anyone else.

Then again, neither did Chuck. He had Ellie, Devon, and Morgan. And of course his girlfriend now. Cover girlfriend.

"But good ol' Morgan can stay home, 'cause it's _couples night_. A little elitist. That's all I'm sayin'."

Chuck gave Sarah the flattest look she'd ever seen. "Buddy, it's not about whether or not you have a girlfriend. Ellie just asked Sarah because—"

"Don't explain. I'm fine. It's good."

Sarah bit her cheek and smiled a bit, almost amused by this situation. "I'm sure there are plenty of games out there that are good for five people."

Morgan gave her a surprised look. And then he pointed at her. "Yes! See? Chuck, she's right."

Chuck had a look on his own face then as he glanced at her. She thought she detected maybe some softness, but for the most part, she didn't understand it. He sighed and turned back to Morgan. "I'll work on Ellie, buddy. I'm sure it's cool if you come. But bring somethin' this time, huh? She'd be a lot more hospitable if you actually show up with some booze or snacks or something."

"Deal! Totally. Whatever I can fit on my bike, dude!" He clapped his hands together. "Awesome! This is gonna be awesome."

As he dashed away, Sarah turned back to Chuck and they shrugged at each other.

}o{

They spent the first half hour milling around the kitchen, drinking wine, talking, and sharing stories. Ellie took a poll on pizza toppings and called in the order, and they eventually broke out the chips and munched on those until the delivery guy arrived. She tried to offer to pay for it, and before Ellie or Devon could say anything, Morgan leapt into action, shoving money into the guy's hand, an unnecessary proud look on his face. She got the hint, as it was half-directed at her. And the _what in the hell are you doing?_ look Ellie threw his way was almost funny.

They opened up the boxes, a few cheese and pepperoni, and then a few vegetarian with everything on it. It was a bit of a tough choice, as she really didn't like black olives, especially on her pizza, but she also found pepperoni to be a bit greasy at these chain delivery pizza places. She grabbed a few slices of the vegetarian anyway, grabbed her drink, and followed everyone out of the kitchen as Devon called out, "It's gaaaaame tiiiiiiime!"

He disappeared down the hallway, coming back a few moments later with a giant stack of games.

"Wait, what?" Morgan asked. "Board games? Dude, I thought we were, like, _gaming_." He stuck his pizza slice between his teeth and mimicked holding a video game controller.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Why would I ever invite Sarah over and then put her through that?"

She gave Sarah a flat look, as though they were sharing some sort of inside joke. Or a connection of some sort, a meeting of minds, maybe. It made Sarah smile.

"Morgan, keep dreamin', buddy," Chuck drawled.

Devon rushed right past the kitchen altogether and set the games on the table. "I got a good variety here, folks. All of them accessible to five people...Mr. Grimes." He beamed in that friendly way, pointing at the much shorter man as they all crowded around the table.

"Of course, I couldn't not add Monopoly to the pile. An oldie but a goodie, huh?" He threw his arm over Ellie's shoulder and tugged her into his side.

Chuck made a dubious sound and tilted to the side a bit, bumping Sarah's shoulder with his own. "I dunno," he teased when she looked up at him. "When I invited Sarah tonight and told her how I tend to play Monopoly, she basically threatened me, so maybe no on Monopoly."

"What?!" She laughed, knuckling him jokingly in the rib as he cracked up and dodged to the side. "I did not threaten you, you liar."

"You kiiinda did."

"I did _not_!"

Everyone laughed as Chuck set his hand on Sarah's shoulder that was furthest from him and squeezed. She smirked at him and shook her head. "Well, if Chuck's gonna be such a big baby about how competitive I am, maybe it's best we do one of these team type games so we can be on the same team."

"That is a good idea!" Ellie said. "And we can do this game!" She moved a few of the other games from the top of the pile and lifted the box for them all to see. "It's perfect for teams."

"Uh, sis...it's perfect for _couples_ ," Chuck said, his hand still on Sarah's shoulder, she couldn't help but notice. It was good cover work. "It's literally called 'Couples Conundrum'."

"Wow, Ellie," Morgan said in a flat voice. "Really subtle. Thanks. Thanks for that."

"Devon brought it out here!" the brunette defended herself, but she didn't seem all that sorry, which totally checked out.

"Hey, whoa whoa. Whoa. It was just in the pile, okay? I accidentally got it mixed in. No big deal, we can play...uh...Pictionary." He shrugged lamely.

"Okay except nobody here can draw. Unless Sarah can?" Ellie gestured to her and she nodded confidently, immediately.

"Oh yeah. I'm a regular Picasso."

"As in, she puts the nose up here on the forehead and the eye on the chin…"

Sarah cracked up at Chuck's addition, nodding. "Exactly." He held his hand up for a high five and she met it.

"No, let's do the couples one. That sounds good," Morgan interrupted. "We'll do the conundrum thing."

"Morgan, you'd need a sixth to be your partner," Ellie said, crossing her arms at her chest. "As in a girl who doesn't find you insufferable."

Devon winced. But Morgan seemed to take it in stride. "Whoa now. Whoa. It's fine. It's okay. We'll just, uh, we'll keep it to Ellie and Devon on a team."

"And Chuck and Sarah. What, are you gonna referee? Leave? The latter would be preferable."

He ignored Ellie completely. "And then me and Chuck can be a third team."

"Well, that's awkward," Devon said.

Chuck let out a nervous laugh. "Uh, Morgan. It's 'COUPLES Conundrum' not best friends."

"Dude. We might be two straight men, but you and me could beat the pants off of these three novices any day of the week with how much we know about each other."

"Uhhhhhh, au contraire, mon beardie. I think Ellie and I gotcha beat," Devon said, giving his girlfriend a side hug and kissing her temple. She seemed pretty sure of it, too, as she nodded and smirked proudly.

"Yeah? Well, we'll see about that."

"Hold on, hold on. Waaait a tick. Wait." Chuck snagged the game from Ellie. "This seems pretty unfair. I'm going to have to answer twice as many questions about personal stuff as the rest of you, and that outright sucks."

"Sucks to be you, bro," Devon teased. Ellie honked out a laugh and Morgan shrugged.

When her cover boyfriend gave her a pitiful look that clearly said _Help me_ , all she could do was rub his arm and wince.

"Not to mention Sarah and I only met, like, three weeks ago. Morgan's known me since I was, like, five, and Ellie and Awesome, you've been dating for, like, seven years."

"Hey! Six and a half!" Devon corrected.

Sarah laughed. "I mean, I'm not sure how great we'll do, but uh, if everyone else is game, I am."

Morgan pushed past her and smacked Chuck on his chest with both hands. "Yes! We're gonna wipe the floor with 'em, man! Let's do this."

A few minutes later, they were congregated over at the seating area in the living room, Ellie and Devon sharing the couch, Morgan sitting in one of the chairs, and Chuck sitting opposite him in the other.

When Ellie and Devon tried to scoot over to make room for Sarah, she insisted in full honesty that she preferred the floor, but that also put her closer to Chuck without the necessity of going overboard and smashing both of them onto his chair. She was glad when he didn't offer up that option. Because after three weeks, she wasn't sure she could say no without making it look like she didn't want to be that close to him and, frankly, that'd be a terrible look for them as a "couple".

So she took her position at Chuck's feet, took her paddle and dry erase marker, and quickly refreshed her mind of all of the things Chuck had shared with her in the last three weeks; the things they'd talked about during lunch breaks, little bits of his past he had told her, trivial things about his childhood…

His dossier that she'd practically memorized didn't have much that would help her here, she feared. And she'd have to be okay with losing this game bad. Especially since Chuck knew absolutely nothing about her. And this version of Sarah that Ellie, Devon, and Morgan knew...she didn't really exist, did she? God, how much was she about to lie?

Ellie rolled the dice. "Okay, ummm...I landed on childhood. Hand me the card." Sarah snagged the top card from the childhood deck since it was nearest her and passed it to Ellie. "Thank you...Annnnd...Name of my favorite stuffed animal when I was little." She wrote it out on her paddle.

"Uh, it was a stuffed crocodile and you named her Medusa."

"WHAT?!" Chuck exclaimed as Ellie turned her paddle to reveal Devon had gotten it right. "When did you two even have that conversation?"

"Six and a half years, bro," Devon said as he leaned in to kiss his girlfriend. "We've had sooooo many conversations."

"Okay well, that was gross and I'm rolling now."

Sarah laughed as Chuck poked her shoulder. "Our turn, Sarah. Get ready for this." He rolled and got a five, pumping his fist. "Yes. Okay, and I landed on orange. What cards are the orange ones?"

"Preference card! Here ya go!" Devon passed a card over and Sarah looked away so she didn't see it.

"Thank you, Awesome." He nodded diplomatically at his sister's boyfriend, then turned the card over, looked at it, then snorted and set it in the discard pile, already scribbling his answer on the paddle. "Which would I prefer? A beach getaway? Or a cabin in the mountains getaway?"

Sarah had no idea, but he'd grown up in Los Angeles and spent his whole life close enough to a handful of beaches, so she guessed, "Beach getaway."

He turned the paddle and she punched her fist into the air. "Yes! Ha! Give us a point, Morgan."

"Yeah, yeah…" he grumbled, marking a tally under their team on the small easel they'd set up to keep score.

The game continued for another half hour as they ate and drank, laughing, and Ellie and Devon seriously started wracking up points in a big way. It was almost a little intimidating how much they knew about each other.

"Okay, okay…" Morgan said, breaking through their laughter at Morgan's answer to a question about his first crush, which Chuck had gotten wrong because he'd assumed it was their kindergarten teacher instead of a girl named Heather. Apparently, Morgan's crush stemmed from the fact that she had a Gumby backpack. "Let's keep it goin', Chuck. Come on. Head in the game. Comeback time."

"Uh...Not likely," Ellie said, pointing to the score board. She and Devon were winning by over ten points.

Sarah and Chuck only had four, and there had been a good number of questions between them. It was verging on embarrassing, but she decided not to fret. The relationship was supposed to be new, anyway.

"Okay, card from the like pile." Ellie picked it up and smiled, setting it down again and writing on her paddle. "How do I like my eggs?"

Devon took a second to think. "What's up? Poached!"

"Yeah, baby!" She turned her paddle and leaned in to kiss him as he laughed.

The rest of them just shook their heads.

"I don't know why we're playing this game," Chuck murmured, biting his pizza. She looked up at him and saw he was laughing. She followed his gaze to where Morgan had written _Kill me!_ on his paddle, turning it for them all to see.

"Gimme the damn dice," Chuck said, grabbing them and glaring teasingly at his sister. He rolled and moved their piece on the board, then picked up one of the purple cards. "Oh. Oh no. Um. Can I skip?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. Everyone had gotten a purple card at least once. They were love life cards, and some of them were about sex, which had made both Ellie and Chuck act out and pretend to cover their ears as though they were disgusted, making everyone else laugh. But the questions were tame enough. Had Chuck found a less tame one?

"Nope!" Morgan burst out. "No skipping! Ask her the question!"

"It's okay," she laughed. "Whatever it is, I'll make myself forget about it right after."

Ellie nudged her shoulder. "That's if you don't know it," she said.

Oh, she definitely wouldn't. But that probably wasn't something she should say out loud about her cover boyfriend.

"If I could role play as anyone in the bedroom, real or fictional, who would it be? This isn't even cool." Everyone laughed and he covered his face with his paddle. "This is terrible and I hate this game."

"Okay, so I really don't know the answer to this one," Sarah said. But Chuck was writing something. "You _have_ an answer?" She cracked up and put a hand on his knee, setting her plate that was littered with pieces of black olives that she'd picked off on the floor behind her.

"Of course he does!" Morgan said. "Can I answer? I know the answer."

Sarah sent him a look, then slowly turned back to see Chuck practically giving his friend a death glare.

"Let Sarah guess. Jesus, dude," Devon said.

"Go 'head and guess," Chuck finally groaned, peeking over the paddle at her with a wince.

"Um...I don't know. Is it somebody like...um...Leonardo DiCaprio or, um, Ryan Gosling or something?" Morgan groaned and threw his hands up as Ellie pitched a rolled up napkin at his face in Sarah's defense. "I don't know!" she exclaimed. "I really don't!"

"Nah, it's okay," Chuck said. "I'm glad you don't know and I genuinely wish I didn't have to tell you right now."

She laughed, but before he could turn his paddle around, Morgan yelled, "It's Aragorn! It's totally Aragorn."

Turned out he was right.

And that was a little...weird...that he knew that. Then again, who knew what sorts of freaky conversations teenage boys had late at night while playing video games or whatever? Or up in their treehouse… Did teenage boys still do the whole treehouse thing? She had no idea.

The dice finally came around to Sarah a few minutes later and she rolled a two, grabbing one of the cards from the favorite pile. She read it and took a moment to settle on her answer. "Okay, what's my favorite pie?"

"Oh, ummm…" Chuck narrowed his eyes as he concentrated on her, almost as if he was trying to read her mind. She'd written down cherry, but it was actually apple. It was a stupid lie. An incredibly trivial, stupid lie. But it was what she did. It was what she'd always done. Giving real answers to real questions felt...unsafe. Even something as harmless as her favorite pie. "I feel like you have this adventurous, fun, outgoing...I'd even go so far as to say, _wild_ personality…" She tilted her head at him and raised her eyebrows. "...but instead of something like key lime or rhubarb or something crazy, your favorite is good ol' American apple pie."

Sarah found herself gaping at him for a moment.

"Did I get it right?" he asked when she didn't answer.

He did. He did get it right. And she felt ridiculous for how much that affected her—and she wasn't sure if the effect was negative or positive. "Nope!" she said, turning her paddle. "Cherry."

Chuck groaned and dropped his head.

"Oh, boooo! Must not know her _that_ well if you don't know her favorite pie."

Everyone ignored Morgan and Sarah put a hand on Chuck's arm, squeezing in a way that everyone could see, smiling up at him.

When Morgan got the dice back, he landed on a purple space and grabbed one of the love life cards. "Oh. Easy. Chuck, we've talked about this millions of times. Favorite physical attribute of a romantic partner."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Forearms."

"What?" Sarah laughed as Morgan turned his paddle around and pointed at Chuck triumphantly. He'd seriously written down forearms and Chuck had seriously gotten it right.

"Dude, that's really freakin' random," Devon said, shaking his head.

"Listen, I can tell when a woman is a gamer. And it's when she has strong forearms. All of this action right here…" He mimicked holding a controller, wiggling his thumbs around. "Thumbs are a close second."

"Oh my God, you're such a freak," Ellie droned, and Sarah had to cover her mouth to keep from literally chortling at the other woman's delivery.

More time passed in which Morgan managed to jam himself in between Ellie and Devon on the couch, claiming they were getting weird supernatural brain waves going back and forth which was totally cheating. But it also meant Morgan had spent five minutes with Devon giving him a noogie whenever he felt like it until finally Ellie made him stop so that she didn't have to hear the shorter man squeal anymore.

The dice came back to Chuck and it was her turn to guess something about his childhood, as he'd rolled a six, landing on the childhood space. She giggled at his celebratory antics, sipping her soda as he read the card silently and set it down again. "Easy, easy…" He started writing and then looked down at her. "My all-time favorite pet."

She got why he'd said easy. He'd just told her a story about a dog he'd had as a kid yesterday at lunch. And because she had a hard time _not_ remembering all of the tidbits he felt comfortable enough to share with her—which was a lot, and all the time—she had it practically at the tip of her tongue.

"Uuuummm...cocker spaniel…"

He made a sound that egged her on as she thought, pressing his pen against his nose. It was cute enough that she leaned in flirtatiously. For the cover. And she grinned as she answered, "Peaches."

"Ahhhh!" He turned his paddle. "Who got Peaches?!" She reached up for a high five and he slapped her hand, a proud look on his face as she won them a point. She practically preened as he leaned down towards her and let out a cute little chuckle.

Morgan made a buzzer sound. "Wrong! It was a _springer_ spaniel named Peaches 2." Sarah turned and gave Chuck's best friend a look. "Not to be confused with the original Peaches...who got hit by a car."

Ellie gave Morgan a look that was half murderous, and the other half embarrassed. "I think we can just give it to Sarah, Morgan." She itched her head awkwardly.

"Yeah," Devon chuckled mirthlessly, gobsmacked by how trivial and competitive the bearded man was being about the game. And frankly, he'd been a bit passive aggressive towards Sarah in particular throughout the game. Whenever she'd gotten something wrong, he'd guessed the right answer before Chuck turned the paddle and celebrated, ignoring Chuck's annoyed roll of his eyes. If she ever get something right, which was pretty rare, he rained on her and Chuck's parade with some comment like, "Well, I mean, that's an easy one."

It was clear there was some jealousy about Chuck's new girlfriend there. Competitiveness, protectiveness...whatever it was, while it was sort of aggressive and even somewhat annoying in its disruptiveness, Sarah was semi-amused by the situation, especially everyone else's response, including how many times Morgan had been hit by something Ellie'd thrown at his forehead with wicked precise aim.

"Fine, fine. I'll just say anything next time and just...take a point," Morgan snarked around the pizza in his mouth.

"You told me that the original Peaches ran away." Sarah looked up at Chuck and inwardly winced. Well, this just got awkward…

"She did," Ellie said, her eyes wide, lips pressed tightly together. "She did."

"Way to go, Morgan," Devon muttered as Ellie gave Morgan a look that made Sarah wonder if she should maybe follow _Morgan_ home tonight to make sure he wasn't murdered in his sleep by his best friend's sister. It wasn't really a part of her mission, though, was it? Maybe if he wasn't being such a tool tonight, she'd make an exception. Alas…

And Chuck seemed genuinely betrayed as he gaped at his sister. His eyes flicked down to Sarah's and then he went back to his board to erase. She momentarily thought she'd even help Ellie with the murder.

As fate would have it, most of the next ten or so questions were pulled from the purple stack, which had made for some hilarious moments, and other uncomfortable moments. But then it got back to Chuck again, Morgan seeming a little too sure of himself as he prepared to hear the question he'd have to answer. "My favorite sexual position. This is so...a lot. I don't...wanna...do this one. Please? Why am I getting all the raunchy sex questions? Seriously. Like, please."

Sarah rubbed his arm comfortingly and leaned in close as he dropped his chin to his chest and groaned.

"Them's the breaks, bro. You're on two teams," Devon chuckled.

"God damn it."

"I mean, I know the answer, though," Morgan said, shrugging, a can of grape soda in his hand. However, they'd all seen him empty half of the can into his mouth and then pour vodka into it. Which was just gross. But it also explained why he was getting a little louder. And less...filtered.

"Or you can _not answer_ and we can sacrifice the point."

"What? Hell no. We're closing in on Team Elsome!" He set the soda down, burped a little, and raised both hands over his head. "Girl on top! Aka cowgirl! Am I right? I'm right."

Chuck turned his paddle. He hadn't written anything. "Woops. Guess we don't get a point. I wrote nothing at all."

"The hell, man? We both know I'm right. Why didn't you write it down?"

Sarah diverted her eyes, aware that Ellie was sneaking a peek at her. So she smirked a bit and faked a blush. She hadn't exactly expected sex questions to be a part of this night, but she'd acted her part well enough, even if she hadn't done very well guessing correctly, nor had he guessed correctly for a lot of hers, sex or otherwise. Because she'd made it all up.

"Next please!" Chuck chirped. "No point for Team Chuck and Morgan."

Ellie got a question right about the name Devon gave his first car—Tiki, after some football player.

The game went on for long enough that Sarah became hungry again. Chuck staggered up before she could to grab her another piece of the vegetarian, and she meticulously picked the olives off of the pizza before taking a bite out of it.

"Next!" Ellie called out from her spot on the floor where she'd moved to share some quiet conversation with Sarah between rounds. Sarah felt the way Ellie was trying to almost smooth over Morgan's behavior by telling her how glad she was that she'd come, and joking about learning so much more about her thanks to the game. The gesture was kind, but the kindest part of it was in Chuck's sister's sincerity. She could tell she _was_ glad. And that she actually liked the woman she thought was dating her brother. It was...nice.

But then the dice came around to Sarah again and she picked up the card and saw what it said. Devon had since lowered himself to sit on the floor next to his girlfriend and they were chattering quietly to one another, so they most likely didn't catch the slight wince on her face. But Chuck might've.

"C'mon, ask. Can't be as bad as favorite position during sex, since I already took care of that card for everyone, you're all welcome," he droned.

She giggled. "Okay." She wrote down a lie answer again, even emphasizing it with a little exclamation underneath. "Most dangerous situation ever."

Sarah was careful not to look at Chuck as he cleared his throat a few times. She could see in her peripheral that he squirmed a bit. She knew inherently what was going through his mind. He'd literally flashed on at least one of those situations, hadn't he? A legitimately dangerous situation that had involved death. Not hers. But she'd certainly been the cause of someone else's. He was smart enough not to bring any of that up, of course. She wasn't worried about that. But what a crappy card.

She finally looked up at him and propped her chin on top of the paddle, raising her eyebrows, waiting for his answer. "I-I don't know, uh, fixing a flat tire on the side of a freeway?"

"Good guess." She turned her paddle for him to see.

"Sunbuuurn!" he drawled, giving her a look she understood in spades. There was almost amusement in it, she noticed. And she appreciated him for it.

"I was nine and we were on a family vacation and my sister and I put on baby oil instead of sunscreen. We ended up looking like two blond lobsters." Everyone chuckled at her made up story, and she could feel Chuck's gaze on her profile as she studiously avoided looking at him, instead erasing her paddle. She felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck, then. And it wasn't the same sensation she got sometimes when she felt Chuck looking at her. It was different.

She'd made a survey of every window and potential entrance or exit in the room when she'd first been in the apartment for the dinner that had utterly failed, so she knew there was a window over her shoulder. Sarah whipped her head around and looked at it, not seeing anybody there. She knew there was a chance it was Casey, checking up on things, maybe spying because he was just not very trusting of her still. But he had cameras on this place, didn't he? If he really felt the need, he could always just watch the surveillance.

For the moment, she pushed her strange feeling out of her mind.

The dice eventually got to Morgan and he let out an embarrassed moan. "Oh God, here we go. Heeere we go. Glad I _don't_ have a date here now." He scrawled his answer on his paddle and climbed up to his feet. "Most humiliating childhood nickname."

Chuck chewed the chip he'd just put in his mouth and shook his head. "I promised Morgan I would never say it out loud."

Morgan gestured for him to just do it.

"Ummm...okay...Organ."

"BOOYAH! YEAH! ORGAN! SEE THAT? WHAT'S IT SAY?!" He thrust the paddle in each of their faces. "BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! GIVE ME A POINT!"

Chuck gave him a tame high five with a partially embarrassed, "Okay." It was pretty clear to Sarah that everyone was having a little less fun with the game now that Morgan had gotten tipsy enough that he was becoming legitimately obnoxious—party-pooper levels of obnoxious.

Chuck was finally up to roll and draw a card, Morgan officially having gravitated over to sit literally on the arm of Chuck's chair, not exactly _between_ the cover couple, but close enough to it. She ignored it, inwardly smirking.

Sarah waited patiently for the question.

"Okay…" A look came over Chuck's face, one she couldn't read. "Most hated person ever."

Morgan made a sound as though that was an easy one, and Devon chuckled, "Total gimme!"

She nibbled on her pizza, looking around at everyone, thrusting her hand out, palm up. "Harry Tang?" she asked.

Morgan groaned as if that was the stupidest answer ever, Devon laughed, and Ellie nudged her arm with a "Good guess!" but Sarah was too focused on the look on Chuck's face. He looked legitimately upset by the question. Or, maybe it was more the answer he was writing down that upset him.

She had no idea who it was. But apparently whoever it was happened to be a big villain, enough of one that Chuck was flushed (not in a good way) and looking down at his lap.

"I don't know, I'm sorry," she said, trying to keep amusement in her voice.

"It's okay," Chuck said, shaking his head. "It's a stupid game."

"Wait, no no! Hold on a second!" Morgan yanked the paddle out of Chuck's hand before he could erase what he'd written down, and it was crystal clear to her that Chuck wasn't happy about Morgan continuing to harp on it. "It's-It's Bryce Larkin. How could you not know Bryce Larkin?"

Sarah dropped her gaze from Morgan to Chuck. And he looked like he was in the throes of abject mortification, along with a side of misery.

Bryce was Chuck's most hated person ever? To the point where these people who didn't know about Bryce's email with the secrets stolen from the government, the secrets Chuck now had in his head, that were currently putting his life in danger, still knew Bryce as Chuck's most hated person ever?

What had Bryce done to him? She didn't have to wait long for Morgan to answer that question, in spite of the _please stop_ look Chuck was giving him. And then Chuck looked right at her as Morgan said, "Dude pretended to be his buddy, sexed up his girl, then got him kicked out of Stanford."

She kept her eyes on Chuck as he dropped his head a bit, his shoulders slumping. And she not only hated this game, she found herself wishing it would stop. All of it. She felt an ache in her chest, for Chuck yes, and everything he was obviously going over in his head all over again… but also because the man they were talking about was dead. He'd been her partner. She'd slept with him enough times to have considered him more than a partner, even if they hadn't called it anything, even if it hadn't been particularly special or deep. And he was dead. A traitor to his country...and dead.

"If Chuck is Solo...Larkin is his Fett. Understand what I'm saying?"

"Okay!" Chuck broke in, looking upset but trying in vain to hide it. "Okay. No point. No point. Understood."

Needless to say, the game ended soon after that and it was late. Ellie began yawning so Sarah finally stood up and brushed off her pants. "Well, um...I should probably get home. I have work early. So…"

"I'll walk you out," Chuck said quickly, joining her.

Devon gave her a bear hug as Ellie walked with them to the door. Sarah slipped her hand into Chuck's for his sister's benefit, gave the other woman a one-armed hug with a thanks, and stepped out into the courtyard with Chuck. Sarah leaned in to kiss Ellie's cheek as the brunette did the same, and with one last wave, the door was shut, leaving the CIA agent alone with the Nerd Herd supervisor.

Sarah looked up at him, met his eyes, and when she saw him drop his gaze to their hands, a bit of a blush on his cheeks, she dropped her own eyes as well. She knew she'd held on a little long, and she diverted her gaze as they finally let go.

"Well, we did great tonight," he said, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

"Yeah, well I like to win, but uuuuh...Morgan _clearly_ has an edge." She couldn't help the sardonic tone of voice. After Morgan's behavior, especially.

"Yeah, when he started to list my favorite thirty wonderful flavors of ice cream in descending order, that was a little much," he chuckled, having seemed to shuck most of the glumness that had been there ever since...that question.

"Yeah, it's like he's had information blasted into his brain, but secret information specifically about you," she drawled.

As they slowly strolled around the fountain, he muttered, "Yeah, I wish I could get access to your file, know more about you, but, uh, that isn't exactly how this works. 'Least I don't think so. Still tryin' to figure that out." He was trying to be as nonchalant as possible, she could tell, though it didn't quite work.

And she thought after the shit his friend had put him through, even if it hadn't been maliciously done, she could give him maybe a little something. Something to ease the discomfort from earlier, end his night on a better note.

"You could always just ask me," she said, shrugging, stopping and turning on her heel to face him. He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes softening, curiosity lighting them.

"R-Really? I—" He seemed genuinely surprised. And she realized he must've eventually figured out that all of her answers during that game were lies, things she'd made up for her cover as Sarah Walker, hotdog frier. It upset her for some reason. She didn't want to figure out the reason. "Um O-Okay. Yeah. Um...Well, I mean, I know that you and Bryce worked together but...how close were the two of you exactly?" Shit. Shit shit shit. Fuck.

And she just answered, no extra thought, knowing it was how she had to answer. She didn't want to give any other kind of answer here. For so many damn reasons, too many reasons. And she hated that he was looking at her like this.

"Uh, well...Bryce was my partner, but we were never really friends if that's what you're asking." That wasn't what he was asking and she damn well knew it. But fuck no was she going to acknowledge that. That was too much. This conversation was too much, and she needed to keep looking at him so that he didn't think she was lying to his face.

"Right," he said, and why did he have to show how relieved he was? He was broadcasting it so clearly and it was worse that he so obviously didn't realize he was. "So your relationship was more like, 'You, hey, get that bad guy'," he growled, "Or 'Nice judo chop', or 'How 'bout them Raiders?' or somethin' like that."

She smiled at him and looked away, fighting the sick feeling in her chest. "Yeah, well, you know...when you're under cover, you're still _you_ but the details are different." She kept walking towards the gate, her back to him finally, and she closed her eyes a bit, then opened them again and rolled them at herself. She had to do this. She wanted to and she had to. Even if it felt...icky.

"Yyyyeah, speakin' of details, there were a couple of those questions we could've done better with."

Thank God he'd changed the subject. "Which ones?" she asked as they turned and he slid up next to her again.

"D'yuh um...those...those...questions...the...questions…" He had his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and wasn't looking at her.

A bit of a grin stretched over her face. "The sex questions?"

"There ya go!" he chirped, looking a bit embarrassed.

She giggled a bit at him. "Morgan did well with those, too."

He surprised her then. "Well, what exactly is our cover for that topic?"

Oh.

It was a legitimately good question. One she'd maybe not thought about herself for reasons she again decided not to think too hard on. She turned to him with a quick answer, keeping it as professional as she possibly could. "Uh," she turned to face him and stopped again. "We're taking it slow."

"Right! Yeah. We're being...prudent. Aren't we?"

She didn't know why he had to give her a bit of a crooked smile, or why he had to say the word prudent like that. And she didn't know what sort of a weird freaking vibe this damn courtyard had that these talks kept happening between them while they stood in it.

All she could do was give a small smile, nearly looking up at him through her eyelashes, but then there was a loud sound behind them. Sarah spun on her heel, that feeling from earlier never quite out of her mind in spite of how long ago it had been. But before she could go for the knife in her jacket pocket, she saw Morgan shuffle tiredly towards them. The alcohol had done a bit of a number on the idiot.

"Oh, you meant...walk _Sarah_ to her car. Makes sense," he said sarcastically, pointing to his temple. "I don't...I don't have a car…" His path led him right through them, wedging a bit more space between them, which was probably his goal.

Sarah used that as an opportunity and followed after Morgan, feeling Chuck on her heels. When they stopped at her car, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug, squeezing a bit harder than was probably appropriate, but she felt he needed it.

And when she heard Morgan who was still nearby and most likely watching their goodbye, she gave Chuck a quick kiss on his cheek. "Good night. And thanks."

"Night. Thanks for comin'."

She smiled at him as she rounded to the driver's side of the car.

"Drive safe, huh?"

Agent Walker didn't allow herself to think about the Bryce question, or the other Bryce question, the lie she'd told, the dozens of lies she'd told, all of them tonight. She didn't even let herself be warmed by the kindness and genuine affection Ellie Bartowski had repeatedly gifted her with, even trying to save her from Morgan's jealous passive aggressive behavior. And even that was a lie, because that she _did_ dwell on a bit as she drove home.

And in spite of the melancholy she felt, a small smile came to her face unbeknownst to her.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is fine...perfectly fine...come back next time when we go off canon and have Casey...talk...not grunt, but...talk…(We gave him ONE feeling, right SC?)

What are feelings? I'm unfamiliar with this term. G'night and g'luck, friends. -SC


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** : DC here...so some of you all want more original stuff, and in this chapter you get it. I get it, this episode suuuuuuucks, but guys, it's us...we'll get you there. The reveal in next chapter, but we kinda deal with when it happens. (In all seriousness, me, King Fluffy as some of you have crowned me, I had a blast writing on the next one.) As Steampunk says, trust. We'll get you there. We gots a plan, fam.

Hey, Happy New Year, everyone! Thanks for reading still! -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, but we are willing to listen to anyone who wants to offer it to us.

* * *

She'd been followed.

Sarah had spotted the tail in her rearview mirror, looming a few cars behind her on the freeway, then following her onto the off-ramp. The same car had followed her all the way to Maison23, and then it had inconspicuously driven past the driveway that entered into the back parking lot. She knew it was a ruse, that whomever it was had a good chance of coming back, perhaps they were even watching the building.

Who was following her? She didn't know. But they weren't at Chuck's apartment complex in Echo Park anymore, so at least there was that. She'd much prefer them here with her. She could handle them.

When they didn't show up at her room after another fifteen minutes, Sarah decided to just take a shower. Either they'd left, or they were outside and wouldn't be a worry until she had to leave again in the morning.

And she needed a shower. She felt like she smelled like pizza. But there was also the fact that standing under that powerful hot spray of gloriously filtered water just opened up her brain. And she had a lot to think about.

She had lied to Chuck about Bryce...and then not at the same time. She'd said she and Chuck weren't really friends, which was half-true. They had about as much trust in each other as partners should—but of course she knew now that hers was misplaced. But were they friends? Maybe sometimes. She didn't know now. She'd still lied. She could pick her answer apart as much as possible, and the blatant lie would still be there.

That was her job, though. To keep the asset safe.

That didn't include emotional safety, though, did it? She knew her superiors didn't care a rat's ass about whether or not Chuck was happy. Casey didn't care if Chuck was downright miserable, most likely. As long as the Intersect was in one piece. As long as North Korea didn't take Chuck before they could pry that program from his brain.

She did care. Because he hadn't asked for any of this and it was heinously unfair. And he was a genuinely good person, the type of person they were supposed to be doing all of this stuff for in the first place, right? The ops, missions, projects—they were supposed to be for people like Chuck Bartowski, his sister Ellie, Devon, even jealous immature people like Morgan Grimes.

Not only that, but there was a chance knowing about her and Bryce's extra connection outside of just working missions together would screw with Chuck's psyche. Or he'd be angry with her, or he'd feel betrayed because that was how men were, and he'd stop trusting her. None of this would work if Chuck stopped trusting her. She didn't want jealousy to have any part in this. But she especially didn't want any distrust between them.

Knowing she'd slept with Bryce would sew the seeds of distrust and she'd have the worst luck getting him back on her side. She couldn't keep him safe if he didn't trust her.

She was sure she'd done the right thing. It would have been more self-serving to tell him the truth, to say it was just sex, that there was maybe a small thread of warmth there, but that it wasn't anything more than that. Reassure him that love hadn't been a part of it. But she didn't owe him that, and she couldn't stand there begging him to understand she had no real feelings for Bryce outside of physical without also expecting him to glean some hope from the fact that she was so desperate for him to understand. The kind of hope she absolutely could not let him have.

So yes, it would have been selfish for her to explain that, even though she wished he knew. It'd make it better—all of it—if there was full honesty.

There was also what Morgan had said—much to Chuck's dismay—about Bryce stealing Chuck's girlfriend. He'd "sexed up his girl". Was Bryce the type of guy who'd steal a friend's girlfriend? And that was the thing, wasn't it? She didn't know. Because she hadn't really known him, even if sometimes she thought she did. And he absolutely hadn't known her. They'd kept to themselves mostly during missions, and while she'd known he was a good spy—a good marksman, a good fighter, smart, quick, fit—she hadn't known what sort of a _person_ he was. Charming, sure. A bit snarky sometimes, but she'd liked that about him for the most part. She'd liked him. She just didn't know him.

Maybe Bryce was the type to steal a friend's girlfriend. She didn't exactly put it past him.

Either way, after what he'd done to Chuck, and the things Chuck's family didn't even know that held much worse consequences for him, she couldn't toss the fact that she'd slept with Bryce onto the pyre that was currently his life. It would hurt him. She simply didn't want to hurt him.

She wrapped her robe around her bare form and tied it shut before leaving the bathroom again, tossing her clothes onto her suitcase in the closet, and walking back towards the bathroom. But then she stopped and eyed the fish swimming in its bowl. And she stared at it.

It occurred to her that she could make some sort of poetic analogy between herself and the fish. Trapped in its bowl, swimming back and forth dutifully, no real place it was going to, just...continuing to move...back and forth. But that was stupid. It was just a fish. It didn't care as long as it ate.

Maybe she could name it. Or she'd make Chuck name it. He was the one who bought her the food for it when she'd let it slip she got a fish on a whim. He'd shown up at their meeting place outside the Wienerlicious a few minutes late and plopped the little orange container down on the table in front of her. "Just don't overfeed it, okay? That's how most pet fish die," he'd said.

She walked up to the bowl and smiled a little, leaning down and tucking her hair behind her ears. Then she grabbed the fish food and sprinkled just a bit in the bowl for it. Him…? Her? She didn't know. Maybe she'd give it a gender neutral name. Or she could just call it Ariel. Like the mermaid.

Sniffing in amusement, she set the food down and straightened to her full height again, watching from the top as the fish slowly nibbled at its food floating on the surface of the water.

As she walked away, she pulled her hair up on top of her head and finally made her way back to the bathroom.

It was as she pulled back the curtain and turned on the shower that she saw what she'd half been waiting for. The person who'd followed her from Chuck's apartment, who'd most likely been watching through that back porch window, was slowly slinking into the bathroom to get the jump on her. She could see their reflection against the silver water spout.

Oh, they were in so much trouble…

She calmly glanced to the side and spotted one of her nylon socks draped over the towel rack from yesterday. She inwardly thanked her moment of messiness and pulled it off of the rack, then reached into the shower and subtly but quickly slipped the bar of soap there inside of the sock.

She kept her eye on the reflection and watched them slink closer and closer...and just when they looked ready to pounce, she spun and swung her makeshift weapon. They ducked it but she quickly whipped it back in the other direction and cracked it right between their shoulders.

They emitted a feminine sounding grunt as she smacked it into their lower back then. And then she stepped back and eyed her opponent, looking for them to broadcast their next movement.

Their leg came up towards her face but she pulled the sock taught and used it to block the kick, then she blocked another kick, and when her assailant came around with their right fist to crack it into her ribcage, she caught their wrist and wrapped the sock around it, yanked them towards her, and slammed her knee into their chest.

She stepped to the side and shoved them hard towards the tub, sending them clattering through the curtain and smacking hard into the wall. Sarah didn't hesitate for a moment, dashing out of the bathroom and making a beeline for her purse on the bed where she kept her gun. She grabbed it and spun, but she'd been followed. Before she could get her shot off, they kicked her gun out of her hand and sent it flying across the room, out of reach.

And when their leg swung back around, Sarah knew. She'd had an inkling when she realized her attacker was a woman, but she knew now. She ducked easily, having seen the kick coming a mile away, and she swung hard with her right.

She blocked both of Sarah's punches, and took advantage of the opening the CIA agent left, slamming her boot into her midsection and sending her staggering back into the table pushed against the wall by her bed.

But as she caught herself, she found plenty of makeshift weapons around her. She'd thought they were weird, stupid pieces of decoration when she'd first moved in, but she'd never been more grateful for a weird, stupid piece of decoration as she wrapped her hand around the tall bottle-shaped thing and swung it down towards the other woman.

She sidestepped fast enough and the makeshift weapon slammed into the coffee table, shattering a few of the glasses there. Before she could attack again, Sarah swung her weapon again, this time crashing it down on another surface, glass bursting and flying everywhere as she missed.

Her assailant she was one hundred percent certain she knew now staggered to the side to avoid being smashed, knocking into the fish bowl and sending it thunking onto the ground. Sarah had a momentary flash of vengeance go through her at the sight of the fish flying out of the bowl and she took a rage-filled swing at the bitch, leaving herself completely exposed as the woman in black kicked her weapon out of her hand and charged towards her.

Sarah staggered away and spun on her heel, weaponless this time. She just lunged at her, tackling her to the ground hard. They wrestled one another, Sarah getting the upper hand first, then losing her grip and ending up on her own back. She was done playing the game though, and she pinned her assailant onto her back again.

She was caught by surprise when an elbow slammed into her nose, sending her sprawling onto her back in pain. She felt the blood drip from it immediately. _Shit._

Sarah lifted her head to watch as the DEA agent turned onto her stomach and grabbed the fish from the floor, tossing it back into the bowl and standing it up again. Trying to save the fish… at least she wasn't the only sap in the room.

She pushed herself up just as Carina turned over onto her back again and she grabbed the mask, yanking it off. Two blue eyes looked up at her, freckles, red hair, and a pissed off look she recognized well.

"I knew it was you," she panted, smirking. "You always telegraph your punches."

Carina shoved Sarah off of her and sat up. "Bloody nose says otherwise."

Damn bitch. Sarah swiped at her nose and looked at the blood on her hand. Damn hellish bitch.

"The hell is this about?" she asked the redhead. "Still Carina, I assume."

"It stuck," the other woman said with a shrug. "Agent Sarah Walker?"

Sarah nodded. Before she could ask her question again, Carina panted, "So...Sarah Walker...what brings the CIA to Los Angeles?"

"Same thing that brings the DEA here. A job." She wasn't playing these games with the trickster DEA agent. And then at the same time, as much as her nose hurt, she was almost...glad to see her. Almost.

"Well, whatever it is...looks boring."

And there she was. Sarah almost smiled at that. But she couldn't let Carina tease this time, manipulate Sarah into a place where she gave more information than she got back. Carina could only be here for a reason, and that reason had better not have anything to do with Chuck…

"All right, Carina, what is it? If you're here it means you need something."

Carina stopped, and for a moment, Sarah felt a spike of annoyance, thinking her old teammate would continue her usual ways and keep teasing, keep needling, keep flirting her way around why she'd shown up in Sarah's life _again_ , trying to beat the shit out of her. Like an asshole.

But then Carina sighed and rolled her eyes. "A diamond," she almost growled, shrugging one shoulder with a wince. Good.

"Wow. You, uh, you looking to settle down?" Sarah joked. It was always something they both came back to when they were working together, or on those rare nights they met up to paint the town...or whatever. They mocked one another mercilessly about settling down, marriage. Because they both knew...they were both on the same page...with similarly shitty stories. They'd both most likely die in their respective agencies. Settling down wasn't in their play books.

Amusement flashed over Carina Miller's face, a hint of recognition, a shared inside joke. And then she gave a crooked grin that bespoke her usual amount of mischief. "Nah, I'm gonna steal one." She pushed herself up to her feet and reached down with her hand outstretched. "And you're gonna help me."

Sarah scoffed, ducking her head, eyeing Carina's hand through her eyelashes. She rolled her eyes and smacked at the hand instead of accepting it, then climbed to her feet on her own. "Well. Couldn't you just have called?"

Carina snorted. "That's not how I operate and you know it."

"You freaking bitch, you could've broken my nose."

"Good. A crooked nose would match your personality. Haaa!"

Rolling her eyes, Sarah turned to survey the room. "You know, I doubt the CIA is gonna cover these damages. So thanks a lot."

"Ugh, you're such a whiner, Sarah. But seriously, what _is_ this mission you're on? Playing stupid games that require dry erase shit with civilians? BORING. What the hell? Are they marks? Is it that tall blond one? He'd make a delicious mark."

"Stay the hell away from him. Away from all of them." She realized how that sounded and she worked her jaw. "You'll fuck up my op."

"What's your op?"

"That's classified. I work for the CIA. We do important top secret work. Not your fifth tier drug bust bullshit."

"Wow, fuck you too."

Sarah smirked and gave Carina the middle finger, going over to slip her feet into her slippers so she didn't cut them on glass, grabbing her trash can, taking a magazine, and using it to start carefully swiping shards from the table into it.

"So what's this diamond, anyway? Also, don't just stand there. Help me."

"You aren't gonna talk about your op, I won't talk about mine."

Sarah snorted. "Yeah, okay, except that you just admitted you need my help, and I definitely don't need yours, soooo…"

"Shit. Good point." Carina huffed and put her hand on her hip. "Look, I'll give you the deets. But it's going through that Director Asshole of yours and the tiny general, so—"

"A briefing? Wait, they sent you here?"

"Well, the ass-whooping was my thing, but...yeah."

"You didn't whoop my ass."

"Uh huh. Okay."

Sarah glared and shook her head, going back to the glass.

"Wait a minute. I have a question, though. The hell kind of mission is this that you're on that you are working a joint deal with the NSA? Graham and Beckman getting chummy?" Carina widened her eyes. "Shit's unheard of."

God, if only she knew the insane bullshit that was keeping Sarah here. But Carina was right about Graham and Beckman. They weren't exactly friends, and neither were the CIA and NSA. It just added an extra depth to the fear Sarah had that this Intersect thing was way, way bigger than she could even imagine. And that meant...so many bad things all at once. If they were working together in this, forcing Sarah and Casey to work together, it had to be massively important. Chuck was massively important. What even was this Intersect, anyway? What was it really capable of? And what sort of effect would it have on a human brain?

She shook herself a bit. "I seriously can't say. So please stop asking."

Carina whistled. "That big, huh? Wow. Comin' up in the world, eh? That tall curly haired beanpole you were sidling up to—"

"Just drop it."

"Yikes, Sarah." She held her gloved hands up. "Just curious if he's the mark. He do something bad? You and Casey gonna pull his plug, or what?"

"Carina…" she growled, genuinely disturbed by the direction Carina's inquiring had gone in.

The other woman snorted and shrugged. "Fine. But you're gonna have to put me up for tonight. Briefing's in the AM. Apparently Director Asshole told my own administrator we're all congregating in _the usual place_ , whatever that means."

Casey's apartment. "Get your own place to stay in," she said waspishly.

"Damn, girl. I mean, I could go back to that apartment and ask those civilians for a spot on their couch. Or in one of their b—"

"Stop. I was joking. But you aren't getting my bed. Maybe if you hadn't given me a nosebleed, you dick…"

Carina just laughed and tugged her gloves off. "So charming."

}o{

"Wait. Here."

Carina just smirked. "Where do you think I'm even gonna go?"

"Don't just burst in," Sarah said. "That's what I mean. Casey might literally shoot you."

"Oh, you have no idea," the redhead said with an almost evil snicker.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at that. But instead of responding, she pointed at the ground with a severe look on her face, earning a roll of Carina's blue eyes, and then she hurried across the courtyard to Casey's apartment.

She walked right in, causing Casey to pull his head back from where he'd apparently been watching them out of his living room curtains. "The hell you think you're doing bringing that evil harpy to this place? She could fuck up this whole op."

Weird how he'd just used the exact phrase she'd thought the night before.

"It wasn't my choice. _I_ didn't invite her."

"Right, uh huh. Mini CAT Squad reunion while we've got shit for brains over there with the Intersect," he whispered through his teeth, closing the distance. "You think this is a game?"

"Don't use that tone with me, Major. You don't think I don't know she's trouble? Why the hell would I put her within one hundred miles of Chuck?"

"So if you didn't bring 'er, who did?"

"We did. If you could cage the tiger for a moment, Major Casey," came the droll female voice from Casey's open laptop. Casey grunted and looked over his shoulder.

Sarah followed him over to it and came to a stop. She'd already had to deal with Carina laughing so hard she cried when she saw her in her Wienerlicious costume earlier. She'd called her WienerGirl. Asshole.

And now she had grumpy Casey—an almost excessive amount of grumpiness for some reason—and two sour-faced superiors looking up at them through the screen.

"What's goin' on, General?" Casey asked, standing a bit straighter, Sarah noticed.

"Don't bite Agent Walker's head off. She had nothing to do with this. DEA requested aid on this mission, you two are our closest agents to the diamond."

"Diamond?" Casey asked his superior, before turning to exchange a look with Sarah.

Casey's door burst open suddenly and she felt his gun up by her ear as she moved to get her own, but she stopped, sighing in relief as she saw Chuck stride in, shutting the door behind him, apparently not caring much that he'd quite nearly been shot. "Guys? Guys? Did you know that there is an undercover DEA agent out in the courtyard?"

Had Carina cornered him? Had she told him she was a DEA agent? Sarah inwardly shook her head at herself as she realized how he'd known who and what Carina Miller was. He'd probably flashed. She still didn't quite understand the intricacies of the Intersect—did he flash on faces, or objects? Or was it anything in the database they programmed into the Intersect? Better question: what in the fuck was the Intersect?

"Relax. We know," Sarah said, tucking her gun back into her belt.

"Should I go?" he asked after looking at her for a moment.

 _Yes. Go to work. Get out of here. Get far, far away from here. Please._

"He can stay," Graham said. _Damn it._

"Cool." Chuck sipped his coffee, seeming to burn his lips a little and wincing. "We doin' a thing again? She part of it?" He threw his thumb over his shoulder, obviously talking about Carina.

"Seen but not heard. We're being debriefed here," Casey grumbled.

She watched as Chuck furrowed his brow and took another sip of his coffee, as though he'd forgotten it had just burned him a few seconds earlier. She spent a moment wondering if he'd slept. She hadn't. Not with Carina in the same room, afraid the mischief brewer would sneak out and perhaps open a hatch in the earth somewhere and let the demons of Hell climb up to wreak havoc.

"The diamond is heavily guarded inside of Peyman Alahi's Malibu compound," Graham continued, ignoring Chuck completely even though he'd ordered him to stay, for a reason she still didn't understand. Why weren't they just sending him to work? What were Graham and Beckman planning here?

"He has a whole compound? What—?"

"Sh!"

"Mr. Alahi is an international financier for the opium cartel which is why the Drug Enforcement Administration has asked us to cooperate," Graham said. She watched as pictures of the diamond, retrieved stashes of opium most likely being smuggled, and Carina's dossier flashed across the screen. And for a moment, she thought this might be something similar to what Chuck saw when he had a flash. She hadn't thought to ask him what happened whenever he flashed.

"You'll assist Carina in acquiring the rock," Beckman added.

"Acquiring?" Chuck asked, making a face.

"SH!" Casey clenched his jaw at the younger man.

Sarah wondered if there was a way she could remove herself from standing between them. Then again, if she did, Casey might murder the nerd.

"You'll take Chuck to Alahi's compound. He can use the Intersect to figure out the alarm system protecting the diamond."

Sarah felt her chest constrict and she immediately looked up at Casey with as much of a _oh hell no_ look as she dared to have on her face in front of Director Graham. Casey looked back with a similar look. At least she wasn't alone in wondering what in the hell they were playing at here.

"Set up the grab for the following day," Graham continued.

She couldn't stop herself from interjecting. "Sir. Carina is a...tremendous field agent...but…" She exchanged another look with Casey. "We can't trust her. Chuck is way too valuable."

"Alahi has friends outside the opium trade. We've received intel that he plans on moving the stone within the next seventy-two hours." It was as though Graham had literally just pretended she hadn't said a single thing. And it was already frustrating enough when he did it to Chuck, but to do it to her? She tried not to let it show in her face.

"Uhhh…" Casey shot her another sidelong look. And she hated the implications of it, but maybe they would listen to Casey if they weren't going to listen to her. "I've had dealings with Carina in the past, too. Uh…" He cleared his throat. "She can be a bit of a...wildcard."

"We're aware of what happened in Prague, Agent Casey…" Sarah couldn't help looking away and down, barely biting back a grin and instead just smirking. She could practically feel Chuck wake up beside her, his head whipping around to look at Casey in her peripheral. "...which is why you and Agent Walker will return the diamond _to us_. Under no circumstances should Carina be entrusted with it. We'll decide what to do with it once it's in our possession."

Sarah spotted a bit of a twitch in Graham's cheek. And she thought maybe he was growing tired of Chuck's apparent plan to ignore Casey's original chastisement that he should be seen and not heard.

"What happened in Prague?" Chuck asked, his tone droll and amused enough that Sarah was pretty sure Chuck had guessed the gist of it—as had she. She stole a quick glance at the NSA agent and watched him turn a wide-eyed, murderous look on the younger man. "I-I don't need t—I don't need to know."

"Regroup with Carina and come up with a plan to get in and out of Alahi's compound," Beckman broke in, seemingly unamused by the exchange. "Get Chuck to the diamond, he can decipher the type of security being used with the Intersect, and get out again. Tomorrow, Casey and Sarah, you'll steal the diamond back and make sure it gets delivered to us. Mr. Bartowski doesn't have to be there for that part."

It seemed almost like something of an olive branch. Of sorts. But Sarah still wasn't satisfied when they signed off, leaving the three of them alone in Casey's living room.

"Another mission, huh? Seems a little intense. I mean, I won't be there for the stealing part, so at least there's that." Chuck ran his hand down his button-up nervously and gave them a wan smile. "I'm not much of a thief."

"We aren't stealing," Casey grunted. "It ain't stealin' if you're taking it from an asshole who profits off of drug cartels."

Chuck let out a high-pitched hum of doubt and tilted his body to the side a bit. "You sure about that, big guy? You seem sure. You seem very sure," he rushed out as Casey took a half step towards him, his hand forming a fist at his waist. "May I...ask a question?"

Sarah turned to face Chuck fully, shrugging her assent.

"Um. I get this is the arrangement. You're all stuck with me because this thingy got put in my head instead of...wherever it was supposed to be. And that means you need to protect me. In return, I help you by...flashing on things and helping you with missions. I've figured that much out. And I'm-I'm ready to help. I am. As insane as all of this still feels to me, I'm ready to help. However I can." He swallowed thickly and Sarah kept her hands to herself instead of lending a comforting touch to his arm or something. "I just want to know if-if _you_ know, if either of you know, what is…" He huffed. "What is happening to me? What is this thing? I don't have a handle on it, I can't control it. It just...happens when I see things. I don't even know _what_ things. Sometimes it's a face, like with, um, that Carina DEA person. Sometimes a scar or a piece of jewelry… Maybe now isn't the best time for this, huh?" he said quickly when neither Sarah nor Casey responded. She imagined Casey's face hadn't even changed, the way hers hadn't...because that was how they were trained. Or at least, that was how _she_ was trained; that might've just been Casey's face. "Yeah, we've all gotta go to work. And there's a DEA agent out there waiting for us. Um…"

He took a step backwards and she was surprised when Casey was the one who stopped him. "Wait." She spun to look at him, eyes wide. He grunted and rolled his eyes, then glanced over at his laptop screen and slammed it shut pretty resolutely. "What is it you're askin', Bartowski?"

Chuck looked incredibly surprised for a good five seconds, and then he shook himself a bit and cleared his throat, glancing at her for a moment, before turning his gaze back to Casey. "Um...okay. Okay. Yeah. Well...I feel like I'm in the dark, I guess. About everything. Like secrets are getting, uh, lobbed over my head. And I get it, to a point. A month ago, I was a regular civilian fixing electronics at the Buy More. Now I'm that but with who knows how much top secret info plugged into my brain that I can't really access unless I...um...see something and 'flash'." He threw air quotes up with his free hand. "I get why I can't know everything. But it's getting rough. I mean, I feel like a vacuum or something. When I can be of use, you're taking me out of the broom closet, and when I've done the flash thingy and given you what you want, you shove me back in again and shut the door, leaving me in the dark."

"A vacuum?" Casey asked, mockery in his tone.

"Yes. A vac—You get what I mean," Chuck snapped a bit testily, a cute pout on his face. "On the one hand, I understand it. You don't trust me with the really big top secret stuff. And those two _especially_ don't trust me. Better to keep me in the dark. But I'm not...I'm not a tool." He swallowed hard again, his face set in seriousness.

"Haven't heard an actual question yet," the NSA agent snarked.

"My question…" Chuck took a moment to send Casey a snarky look back. "...is...I guess...can you tell me anything? Anything at all? About what this is? Because I don't understand. I don't understand how Bryce—He had to know, right? He had to know what would happen if he sent this to me. He had to know when I opened it that it'd...infect my brain. I guess. Is infect the right word? It's not like a zombie virus. What if it _is_ like a zombie virus? Oh my God."

"Wow, okay…" Sarah grabbed Chuck by his arms. He was spiraling quick. "Chuck, this isn't one of your video games. It's real life. This has nothing to do with zombies. It's…" What was it? She could only tell Chuck what it _wasn't_. "It's incredibly advanced work that...intelligence agencies have been working on for a while…"

"And?" Chuck prompted when her voice died out. Why was he prodding like this, she wondered? When he knew she was in the dark too? She'd all but told him outright that she was afraid they were keeping this information from her, that Casey, Graham, and Beckman knew a lot more than she did and were actively keeping it from her. What she didn't tell him was that she feared her partnership—and the perceived more-than-a-partnership—with Bryce made them distrust her with more than that. Why was Chuck asking her?

"Hold on…" Casey's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she broke her confused gaze from Chuck's to give the NSA agent a steadier glance without even a hint of confusion, as though she knew more than she did. "You don't know what it is, do you? The Intersect."

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. "And you do?"

He shook his head just barely. "Why were you sent here, Agent Walker?"

Sarah glanced at Chuck over her shoulder and was starting to wonder if they'd both underestimated him...again. When she turned back to Casey, she raised her chin and met his gaze. "To figure out where Larkin sent the Intersect. To determine if that person was...a threat. And when it was clear he was an innocent civilian, to protect him and the Intersect."

"Did your director happen to tell you why pretty boy sent it? Or what it was?"

"He stole it from us and sent it to keep it out of our hands."

"Jesus Christ, Graham didn't tell you a fuckin' thing, did he?"

Sarah clenched her jaw and stayed silent.

"What are you CIA stiffs playing at?" She still didn't say anything as he let out a soft snort and shook his head bitterly. "Look. I know your history, I know you're dangerous even, but what I don't get is how the hell you're supposed to be able to be a handler to this moron when you're in the dark as much as he is."

"Wait...Sarah, you don't know what the Intersect even is?" Chuck asked, and she spun on her heel to furrow her brow at him. He knew that… Oh. Oh, wow. That was when she saw it. Confirmation that she'd absolutely underestimated Chuck Bartowski. So had Casey...Only, he didn't realize it the way she suddenly did.

Chuck had just opened the door for Casey to step through it. They were both in the dark, neither of them knowing what exactly they were dealing with here. And he'd potentially just gotten Casey to shed light on things for them both, without letting the NSA agent know she'd had that perhaps _too_ honest private talk with Chuck.

She just barely stopped herself from gaping in awe at the man in front of her.

"Yeah, well…" When she turned back to Casey, she'd dropped the small smile, the wide eyes. "It didn't seem smart for me to dig. But I just so happen to agree with you." She gave a half shrug towards Chuck. "Sorry. I figured it'd set you at ease to think we both had control over everything."

"S'okay," he breathed. "It did set me at ease. At least, as much as this whole batshit crazy situation allows for it."

"This is stupid," Casey grunted, and he crossed the room, scooting a sideboard table away from the wall and opening the safe behind it.

"Wait...does my apartment have one of those, too? 'Cause Ellie and Devon are totally holdin' out on me. I've got some mint condition comics from the nineteen-thirties, still in their wrapping, and I'd feel a lot safer with them stashed away in there." Sarah turned to give Chuck a look, feeling Casey do the same. "What? Sorry I don't have super top secret files or something, but those are very precious to me."

Sometimes Sarah underestimated just how big of a nerd this guy was, she thought as she turned back to see Casey pull a file out of the safe and walk back over to them. He plopped it down on the table. "It's all in there. After 9/11, our guys and Walker's guys were told to work together again, share intelligence…" He made a scoffing grunt and shook his head. "It was supposed to make it easier for us to identify and tackle threats to our national security. Every single shred of data we had, every single shred of data the CIA had, literally everything and anything, up to the highest levels of clearance, was collected and programmed into what they called the Intersect. The Intersect is supposed to do what _we_ can't," he said, gesturing between himself and Sarah. She knew she was gaping at him now, but she didn't bother trying to hide it. This was bigger than she could've possibly known. And she felt like she might break into a cold sweat.

"What's that mean?" Chuck asked, his voice quivering. He'd already put two and two together, she thought. The Intersect was in him now. In his brain. And the implications of that...must be numbingly terrifying.

"The NSA might've gathered one bit of evidence, the CIA a different bit of evidence...The Intersect cross-references, puts the pieces together, gives us the whole story, and...well, we catch the bad guys, stop a bomb from goin' off in a room full of important people…" He shrugged.

"And that's...that's what's in my head." When Chuck started to teeter a bit, Sarah grabbed his arm tightly. He sent her a weak, "thank you", then shook himself a bit, clearing his throat. "What's...what's with the weird pictures? When Bryce first sent me that email with the...uh...Intersect...it was a bunch of pictures of...whatever. Flowers and birds and people having a picnic…"

"The data is encoded into innocuous images. It's supposed to facilitate subliminal retention for those deemed receptive to the program. But the more we look into this, the more it seems like you got the whole fuckin' thing, kid."

Oh, God. Every last dossier, every file, every shred of information collected by two of the world's most top secret agencies was packed into a human brain— _Chuck's_ human brain. "How?" she breathed.

Casey shrugged. "I dunno. Seems like Director Graham and General Beckman don't seem to know, either. The goal is to get it back out again."

"Why in the hell would Bryce send _that_ to _me_? I don't know anything," Chuck said, thankfully keeping his voice down even though she could see he was spiraling again. "I'm not a government agent. I'm not a CIA analyst even. I'm nothing. I'm a guy working at the Buy More for eleven dollars an hour! I'm… Oh my God…"

"Larkin destroyed the Intersect after he sent it to you. So what that means is, uh, you're _it_ , Bartowski." He shook his head. "I get why nobody wanted to tell you, since you're a civilian... and a moron." Sarah sent Casey a harsh look at that. "But I wanna know how Graham thought you'd be an effective bodyguard when you don't even know what the hell you're protectin', how big it is. I mean, this is the biggest thing in the history of the United States intelligence communi—'Ey, don't hurl on the rug, moron."

Sarah grabbed Chuck by the arm again when he looked like he might either vomit or faint. He did neither, thankfully. "Casey, maybe go easy on the intensity. This is a lot to take in. You okay?" she asked Chuck, leaning in close and catching his brown eyes with her blue ones.

"Yeah. Yeah yeah. No. Yes. Weirdly enough, I'm...relieved." She gave him a confused look. "No, I-I am. When I didn't know anything except that-that sometimes certain things made me flash and the weird thing would happen with my head and the information just...tumbles outta my mouth...that was way scarier. At least—At least I know what it is now. As big and terrifying as it is, as much as I'm realizing I'm in a lot worse danger than I ever knew...at least I know _now_."

He lifted his gaze over her head, his brow furrowed, jaw hard. "Thanks, Casey. For telling me. Us."

The NSA agent just grunted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Whatever. I'm not getting my ass gunned down 'cause you two don't know what the fuck all this is and do somethin' stupid."

Sarah thought it was a good alibi—playing it off like he was saving his own skin by telling them—but she had a good feeling he was just doing the right thing because it was right. And because he trusted them.

She had a lot of questions still. For example, why in the hell did Bryce put someone he supposedly cared about at one time in so much danger? Downloading that much into a human brain had to be insanely dangerous. But also, the man standing next to her had so much top secret information in his brain—if anyone ever found out about the Intersect...God, he had such a huge target on his back.

"So...this diamond, then. That's gonna be in the-the Intersect," Chuck said, looking up at them. She took her hand off of his arm belatedly, crossing her arms at her chest.

"Weren't you even listening?" Casey growled, back to his regular self again. Or, she thought, maybe he was trying to overcompensate now. He'd gone soft for a bit, and he was going to be rude and dismissive of Chuck again, to pretend he wasn't soft at all. It almost made her smile. Maybe she would, too, if the implications of all of this weren't weighing so heavily on her mind, on her conscience even.

"I just got a whole lot of really intense and scary info, Casey, so 'scuse me if I maybe forgot about literally that entire debriefing." He shrugged passive aggressively. Casey deserved it.

"You aren't flashing on the diamond. The blueprints and mechanisms of the security system Peyman Alahi is using to keep the diamond from being stolen are what you're supposed to flash on. Included in that is a way to get around the system. Tell us that, we go back the next day to steal the diamond. Easy enough."

"Right. Super easy. Mhm," Chuck murmured sarcastically. "Does, uh, does Carina know about the, um…" He tapped his temple.

"No," she and Casey barked at the same time. Chuck widened his eyes and nodded. "And she isn't going to," Sarah hurried. "Right?"

"Well, _I'm_ not telling her," he said, flattening his palm on his chest.

Sarah turned and exchanged a look with Casey. She felt like they were finally on the same page now. And she felt...well, she felt trust there, didn't she? He'd trusted her enough to bring her in on the Intersect where her own superiors hadn't for reasons she wanted to eventually get to the bottom of. And right at that moment, she thought they made a silent agreement. Under no circumstances should Carina Miller be allowed to be around Chuck for an extended period of time, especially not alone.

"Let's get out there," she said, then, and Casey gave her a slight nod. "Carina gets...wily...when she's left unattended."

Sarah brushed past Chuck and led them all out into the courtyard, Chuck on her heels. Carina was thankfully right where she'd left her and she smiled a little as the woman spun on her heel to smirk at them, trying to pretend she hadn't been impatient.

"So this is your team…"

" _My_ team," Casey grunted, tossing his backpack strap over his shoulder and giving the redhead a significant look. Like he wasn't about to let her screw with him again… Sarah just hoped he wasn't underestimating the DEA agent.

"Oh. Hello, Casey. Nice to see you with your pants on."

Sarah nibbled on her cheek, twisting her mouth to the side, trying not to encourage Carina too much.

"And, uh...who might you be?"

Sarah straightened her spine a bit as Carina slowly dragged her heavy-lidded gaze to Chuck. He looked up at her, eyes wide. "I'm Chu-Chuck. The new guy." He gave a weak, toothy grin.

"Really?"

"He's an analyst," Sarah said quickly, before Chuck could give Carina anything else.

"Hey, Chuck."

 _Shit. Oh shit._ Morgan had the worst timing, per usual.

"Another member of your team?" Carina asked under her breath.

"No," Sarah muttered back. "That's Morgan, he's Chuck's best friend and _a civilian_ ," she emphasized. "Morgan!" she burst out as he stepped up next to her. "Uh, this is my friend Carina. We used to work together."

"Hello," Carina said, her voice silky smooth as she thrust her hand out towards him. Sarah already had a bad feeling about the mischievous sparkle in the redhead's eyes.

"Madam Carina…" Morgan took her hand and slowly raised it to his lips, kissing the back of it as he kept his gaze on hers.

Sarah immediately shared a look with Chuck over his best friend's head. They both knew this maybe had the potential to be trouble. She could see her worry reflected in Chuck's face. _Oh, boy…_

}o{

"Gather 'round. Gather 'round, boys."

Chuck looked up from his computer as Morgan strolled up to the Nerd Herd desk. He really didn't have time for what he assumed Morgan was here for, even if Jeff and Lester were intrigued by his tone.

His best friend had been strutting around the store all morning and he knew why. He'd been like this in eleventh grade after Penny Long asked him for an extra pencil during physics class. Poor guy.

Chuck went back to the online tech questions, scrolling through and making sure they'd all been answered, tech problems solved to the best of their abilities. It looked like Anna had taken care of yesterday's, and unsurprisingly, he didn't see either Jeff or Lester doing any of this. He'd have to talk to them about it. He already dreaded that conversation.

"Well...fellas...your boy Morgan has finally come up in the world."

"Impossible," Lester said immediately.

"The twelve pack I drank last night came up this morning…"

Everyone ignored Jeff.

"I met...the most incredible woman. Yes. Yes, that's right. Woman."

Chuck sighed and rolled his eyes up to look at the ceiling. He knew it.

"Eyes like flirty sapphires. Hair like spun...auburn...silk." He groaned and leaned against the Nerd Herd desk.

"Were you watching porn?" Lester asked and he turned and snickered, his eyes flashing between Jeff and Chuck as if they'd back him up. When they didn't, he sobered and turned back to Morgan. "So, like, a real live woman."

"Yes. So alive. Chuck...Chuck, man, you're the best. You introduced me to her. I mean, Sarah did. But I wouldn't have ever met her if you weren't dating Sarah." He spun back to Jeff and Lester. "She stretched her hand out towards me with this amazing...hello…" God, he'd even tried to mimic a smooth Carina voice. This was pathetic. "And I take her hand, kiss it...And I say…'Madam Carina' ...And she goes, 'Pleasure to meet you, sir'. Her eyes...her eyes, man, say...everything."

It didn't look like Jeff and Lester were really buying it either.

"Like what?" Jeff asked.

"Like _Martin_ ," Chuck said nonchalantly, looking up from the computer.

"Huh?" Lester asked, Jeff just confused...not that there was anything different there.

"She kinda got my name wrong," Morgan admitted, taking it in stride. "She goes 'Martin' instead of 'Morgan'...That's completely fine, though."

Chuck was already watching the incoming piece of shit Harry Tang make his way towards the desk by then, so he chirped, "Tang is comin'," sending Morgan off and running. The Nerd Herd supervisor then slid off of the desk where he was perched and crossed to the other counter, unfortunately being followed by Jeff and Lester.

"Morgan wasn't made to mix with the opposite gender," the permanently high Nerd Herder said, and Chuck was legitimately worried about where this conversation was headed. "Unlike me." Aaaannnd there it was.

"Chuck, how are you s'posed to get any female friction action with him third-wheelin' you all the time?" Lester asked, thankfully ignoring Jeff again.

Chuck looked up from his folder as he sat at the desk, narrowing his eyes at the smaller man. "What does that even mean?"

"...Sex."

"Can't you just say _that_?"

"Yeah! I mean...I could. It just...lacks…" He searched for a word Chuck hoped he'd never find. "Flavor." Dear God.

"Okay, that's my cue. I need to check on the 1420 in the back. Probably comin' back never if anyone needs me." He exited from behind the desk and made quick work of heading to the back, bringing the file for the repair to the back with him.

In spite of what he said, he made quick work of checking the laptop, making sure the updates were running okay, and then he slipped back out onto the sales floor, crossing back to the desk. Jeff and Lester were exactly where he'd left them, still having done absolutely nothing in spite of fifteen minutes passing, of course.

He rounded to the front of the desk and snagged a pen to mark that he'd done the check.

"She's too good for this _store_. Is there a nicer establishment where beautiful people can shop?"

Chuck looked up at Lester's words and saw he and his friend were staring at something, someone, behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and jumped as he saw Carina standing there talking to Morgan. She waved at him, grinning, and he lifted a hand with a breathed, "Hi", and thankfully he also saw Sarah was making her way over from the entrance behind her.

Morgan practically scampered away from her to come lean against the desk next to him. "Chuck, you have to fix me up with Carina," he breathed desperately.

"Nooo, no...I-I mean…" Chuck glanced at him, making a face. "Uh, actually, I don't think that's such a good idea, Morgan."

"Chuck." He paused. "I know what a third wheel is. I know it's me." Aw shit, he felt bad. He already felt bad now. "Gimme a chance here, man. Let me be a fourth wheel." The way he said fourth wheel made Chuck even more certain that he shouldn't let this come even remotely close to happening. "For once. Or maybe I can just get her number? Do you have that much? Give me that much. That puts the decision in her hands, you know? That seems fair."

"If you give her a decision, you aren't getting a date," Jeff slurred. They all gave him a severe look. "I'm not saying you _shouldn't_ give her a decision. Sheesh."

Chuck turned to watch as Sarah and Carina leaned close together. He studied Sarah's body language and thought she looked tense. Carina on the other hand, looked very satisfied with herself. That did not bode well.

"Wait. You don't think I'm good enough. That's it," Morgan said in a shocked, hurt voice. Chuck looked back at him with wide eyes. _Ooooh no no no._

"Yes," Lester said vehemently.

"No! No." Chuck gave him a severe _shut up_ look. "I just, uuuuuuhhhh…"

"Look, if you can manage to get Sarah to want to go out with you, and then, like, _stay_ with you, dude? That means just about anything is possible." Chuck frowned at that, turning his frown on Lester as he hummed in agreement. "Let me—Let me spread my wings here...Man."

When he started flapping his pterodactyl arms, a wistful look on his face, Chuck was honestly just desperate to get him to stop. Stop doing that. "Fine! Fine. I'll see what I can do," he rushed out, reaching out to push Morgan's arms down to his sides again. "But no promises."

"Thank you thank you thank you."

Manipulative little gnome.

Chuck slid up next to Sarah, hearing the last bit of what was definitely an 'I'm the boss' spiel from the blond CIA agent to her old coworker. "Heeey," he drawled quietly, smiling at Carina first, then at Sarah. The look on Sarah's face made him add, "Sorry to...interrupt. Hi, Carina. Can I just talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," Sarah chirped, seeming eager almost to move away from that conversation as he led her off to the side.

"I need to ask you a favor," he said to her then, "and feel free to _say no_ ," he emphasized. She raised her eyebrows a bit and shot a quick glance over at Carina, as if checking to make sure she wasn't getting into trouble or something. "And by that I _mean_...say no." That was just in case she didn't catch the emphasis. "But, uh, could you fix Morgan up with Carina?" He gave her a pained look and watched as she simply blinked at him in response.

Then she got a look on her face that made him nervous. She glanced over at Morgan and he followed her gaze, seeing Morgan give a thumbs up. Then he turned back to her. "Make sure you really exaggerate _no_ so that they can lip read it. They're a little lame, but I think they can crack NO…"

"You know, that is a _great_ idea."

He spun back to watch her dash away from his side. "No, it's not! NO is the answer, you're s'posed to say NO."

Aw hell. What was his cover girlfriend planning at the expense of his friend, and would it damage the bearded one's heart...or his pride...or both? Crap.

He rushed back over to the desk, then watched with trepidation, as the other three men watched with interest, while the two jaw-droppingly beautiful women talked. Suddenly Carina shot an amused look over at the desk and did an obviously flirtatious head nod towards Morgan.

"Take that!" his best friend mouthed at him, immediately embarrassing himself and anybody standing within ten feet of him with a ridiculous celebratory dance that was indecipherable, frankly.

Oh, God. This was so bad. This was terrible. This was the worst. And it was only the second scariest thing that had happened to him today. It was barely noon.

 _Oh, God._

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm sure this will be fine….SC...why are you wearing the monocle? SC?!

(What's a monocle? :) - SC)


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** DC here. One of the things SC and I talked about before writing this was trying to fix some of the insane things that happened in canon. Some of the reactions were too over the top the way they were shown. (Granted it was a comedy but...really?) We wanted to give things context, or even point out, that they were wrong, that something was out of line. So that's what we've done here. We've tried to show why Chuck was so mad, we've also tried to show why he had no reason to be that mad. His reactions were quite childish, and we decided while we can be childish with the best of them (sticks tongue out at SC) what happened in this ep was just a little over the top. Episodes are changing, and we're just grinning. SC...why the monocle? SC!?

Sorry we're so late with this, folks. It's my fault. We chose to take a holiday break from posting and then it extended to past my birthday for really no reason at all except for my own existential crisis about turning thirty. My fault. (raises hand) -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, and that hurts us to our core.

* * *

She was irritated. This whole mission, Carina, the stuff about Bryce coming up, thinking Carina had been being supportive earlier in the Weinerlicious when she said she was sorry about Bryce's death, only for her to quickly say something snarky to Sarah. She was done. This mission had proven what she already thought, she couldn't be in the CIA any longer. She couldn't do this. In fact, if it wasn't for Chuck…but it was for Chuck. He didn't deserve what he was going through, but to be honest, he was doing better than she'd hoped.

If she were being 100% honest, Chuck was teaching her something, about real life. Even before the CIA real life wasn't….well...real, it had been about the con, and the CIA honestly wasn't much different. Like right now, for instance...double dating with Chuck and Morgan. She had done it to Carina to punish her, for making fun of Chuck and Morgan. Make no mistake, Morgan did annoy her some, but he was there for Chuck, something she didn't have. She didn't have a friend like Morgan. Carina couldn't be that, and honestly the CIA did all they could to make sure that never happened. Spies shouldn't have feelings, emotions, or anything that could distract from the job.

But for a moment, tonight, sitting on the arm of Chuck's chair, shoes off, just being, she wondered, once this was over, could she ever have the life she wanted? Probably not. Her best hope was to disappear and live a life of solitude. There was no real future for her. She could stay in the CIA and die like Bryce, as Carina had so nicely reminded her, or she could go somewhere and just be. She found neither option was optimal, but one was better than the other.

"You guys are so cute, really. You're, like, the cutest couple ever." Carina was laying it on extra thick. She glanced at Chuck and then back at Carina. Too thick.

"Ah, well…" Chuck began. She would have grinned if Morgan wasn't there. He tried so hard to do the right thing. She and Carina exchanged glances. "Thanks, yeah. We're doing... we're doing good."

Chuck looked at her and she decided to save him. She leaned over and put her arm behind him on the chair. "Good? I'd say we're doing very good, sweetie."

Chuck threw his hand up in agreement. "Well, I stand corrected."

Carina kept turning up the heat. "So, um, how did you two meet?"

Chuck probably wasn't sure where this was going, but he played along. "At work, I guess. Right? Yeah."

Surely she wasn't going to… "Yeah, work," Sarah replied.

Morgan jumped in. "Sarah came into the store with a broken cell phone, like a modern-day damsel in distress."

Carina gave a laugh. "I guess you're right. A lot of people who meet at work end up dating." Sarah glared at Carina, Carina smirked, and she saw Chuck have a look of confusion on his face.

This needed to be headed off at the pass now. "Uh, so do you guys want to watch a movie or something?" Sarah asked the group trying to get out of the nearly awkward conversation.

Chuck looked up at her. "Good idea…" as he spoke she brought her left hand she had been leaning against up and rubbed his neck. His eyes shut and he looked to have lost his train of thought. She couldn't help the amused grin on her face. "Sweetie," he finally said, coming back to earth. She moved her hand further down his neck so he could function. "Yeah, that's a great…" Maybe he wasn't as functioning as well as she thought he was. "I rented that penguin movie."

Morgan interjected. "No, no, no, no, no—a movie's a terrible idea. Don't you think? I think that people don't take enough time to get to know each other. All I want to do tonight is find out everything there is to know about Carina."

Carina grinned and leaned toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Really? Like what?"

OH SHIT! This was backfiring in Sarah's face. The whole idea was that Carina would be miserable, and behave. Sarah should have known that Carina didn't know how, and would do nothing but try and turn up the heat.

"Were you always this hot or did you just, like, recently find your hotness?" Good lord. Morgan had no chill. None. It just didn't exist.

Carina giggled. "You're so cute." Morgan's eyes about burst out of his sockets they got so big and the smile on his face threatened to rip it apart.

Chuck looked up at Sarah and all she could do was shrug. "Can I ask you something strange?" Chuck and Sarah's head whipped back toward the couch. If Morgan thought it was strange... "Can I feel your forearms?" Chuck sunk a little into his chair. Sarah had to bite her lip. Carina gave him a look but held out both her arms. Morgan felt them and had a strange look on his face.

"Is something wrong with them?" Carina asked. Chuck sunk even lower.

"No…it's...well, they aren't gaming muscles, but they are definitely there," Morgan replied. The doorbell rang and Sarah swore Chuck muttered "there is a god." He hopped up to get the pizza as Morgan went to help him. The two men fought over who got to pay and Chuck eventually relented, shrugging as he faced Sarah. Carina was smirking and Sarah was fighting not to slap the smirk off of her face. Chuck took the pizza over to the table and opened it as Morgan went over to talk to Chuck.

Sarah sat down on the couch with Carina. She had to try to calm this down, for Chuck...oh who was she kidding, for Morgan. He was growing on her. "You know, you don't have to be so hands-on with Morgan."

Carina shrugged. "You said I'm on a date. This is me on a date. You don't buy a Porsche and drive it the speed limit do you, Blondie?"

Sarah tried a different approach. "You're going to give him the wrong idea. He's not like us."

Carina smirked. "Oh, come on. I'm just giving the kid a thrill. I mean, this place is like... if a yawn could yawn. How do you stand it? We used to party until 4 AM, have a briefing at 6 AM, kicked ass all day, took a fifteen minute nap and do it all over again."

And there it was. Carina hadn't changed, or maybe she had never met the real Sarah. While Sarah could do everything that Carina had said, it didn't mean she always needed to. Or wanted to. Carina was looking for the next adrenaline shot. The next party, and Sarah...she wasn't. Not anymore, if she ever really was…. "I'm good here."

"Yeah, right," Carina shot back. Sarah smirked at her friend. Carina had no idea what Sarah wanted in life, not that she had known herself for all those years. She knew what she thought she wanted, but that ship had sailed.

"Who's up for a hot slice?" Chuck asked breaking the tension.

"I think I'd like to see that movie if you don't mind," Sarah said to Chuck. This ought to bore her to tears. A penguin movie. This ought to be the perfect thing to slow her down. The movie started and Sarah picked the olives off of her pizza. She felt someone watching and cut her eyes toward Chuck. He was watching her, his brow furrowed in concentration. Morgan was mimicking the penguins on the screen. She heard Morgan muttering something and Carina answer. She was feeling quite persnickety and Shh'd them. Morgan did something with his head mocking her, and part of her knew that meant he accepted her. She kept picking the olives off and he started up again.

"Where were you last?" Morgan asked in a low voice.

"Argentina, okay?" Chuck snapped. "Now will you shut up? They're almost at the Antarctic." Sarah gave him a look. That was in Carina's file. How did he know that? She had an idea. She felt Carina looking at him, but she stared straight ahead at the movie until Carina turned back to Morgan. Damn. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

The movie wasn't very long, and Chuck was on call, so Sarah herded Carina out as soon as possible. She stopped at the door. "Hey, I need a second with my boyfriend, you two mind?" Sarah asked. She shut the door before they could answer. She turned, making sure there was no anger on her face. "Argentina?" Chuck raised an eyebrow. "You said she had been to Argentina."

Chuck thought. "Oh, shit."

"Okay, calm down, Morgan didn't catch it, but you just need to be careful, okay?" Chuck nodded. "Look, meet me tomorrow and we'll go over stuff at the Wienerlicious. I know you're on call, so get whatever sleep you can." She squeezed his hand. "Don't freak out, okay? It's no big deal." Sarah gave him an encouraging smile and left. She and Carina walked to her car, but in the pit of her stomach she wasn't sure she believed what she said.

}o{

Chuck was asleep dreaming about penguins in Argentina, which he was pretty sure wasn't a thing. He had on a tux and Sarah kept telling him to trust her as she led him to what looked to be a huge hole. He was jerked out of his sleep by his phone ringing. He really needed to answer this professionally. He was on call. "Yeah?"

"Hey, dude, uh, did Carina call about me yet?" Chuck was pretty sure Morgan was still outside in the courtyard.

"No, Morgan, it's the middle of the night. She hasn't called yet." Chuck hung up. That probably wasn't very nice, but he was on call.

The phone rang again, and he answered it. "Uh, when do you think it's cool for me to call her?"

Chuck screamed at the phone. "I am asleep!" He hung up again. He had just gotten to sleep when the phone rang a third time. "Okay, okay, you know what? Listen, listen, she has not called in the time that it's taken me to pick up and hang up. Leave me alone, Morgan!" He took a breath as he heard a female on the other end. "And hello to you too, ma'am. I apologize, I had a bad nightmare where a friend kept calling me and waking me up." He listened for a minute. "Yes, I-I am, uh, the on-call Nerd Herder for all Nerd Herd Computer emergencies. And-and what is your room number?"

He drove across town to the hotel the customer had listed and knocked on Room M 903. Carina opened the door. "Hey, Chuck." Chuck started to respond, half asleep, ready to be the Nerd Herder that he was, when it dawned on him it was Carina, and she was in a robe and Sarah might have been wrong about earlier being no big deal. He realized he was standing there with his mouth open as she motioned with one finger to come inside. "Use your feet."

Chuck came in, speechless. He was even more speechless when Carina took a knife out and opened a bottle of champagne.

He needed to be absolutely professional. "Where's... where's, uh, your computer?"

She grinned as she poured two glasses of champagne. "I don't have one. I lied to get you over here."

This wasn't good. "Why would you do that? Why would you risk my job?" She turned to him as he lifted the Nerd Herder briefcase slightly.

She started to walk toward him. "Nerd Herder, Chuck, that's your cover job. I know you're with us." She stopped right in front of him holding the glasses.

He was terrified and confused. "Who's 'us'? Who's 'with us'?" She offered him a glass of champagne as she grinned. "Oh, thank you." He took the glass from her. "But no, thank you, I…"

She cut him off. "You can't access my file to know about Argentina unless you have a G6 clearance or higher." She clinked her glass against his. "Cheers to spying." She put a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him backwards. He sat down on the bed, hard, dropping the Nerd Herd briefcase. Oh shit. What could he do? What should he do? Deny? Call Sarah? Call Casey….no….not call Casey. It was at that moment Carina began to take off her robe leaving her in a red bra. "I hope you like what you see."

OH SHIT! "I should probably call Sarah." He reached for his phone as quickly as he possibly could. This was not good! "Sarah should probably be here. I think that it would be important for her to know…" Carina took the phone away from him and tossed it on the bed. "So you don't think Sarah should be here…"

Carina shook her head. "You're not much of a spy, are you? I don't know how many more clues I can... take off." She put her thumb under the bra strap on her shoulder and teased lowering it. She made the band pop, and Chuck realized he jumped slightly when she did. "But if Sarah were here," she ran her right hand across his face, making him look at her. He was trying to be polite. Why wouldn't she let him be polite?! "I couldn't seduce you." She ran her finger down his chin opening his mouth. "Unless maybe," she pulled his tie jerking him forward. "You're into that sort of thing." She grinned at him and Chuck began to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Hmm?"

He tried to be as nonchalant as he could as he brought up one finger. "Just one." He quickly drank the glass of champagne. She hoisted herself on the bed, and put a hand on his shoulder. She lowered herself down to his ear as she spoke. "Or maybe I'm wrong, and you're already sleeping with Sarah." Her lips were right beside his ear. "Are you sleeping with Sarah?"

Chuck summoned up all the bravery he could find. "It's really not any of your business."

"That's not a denial," she purred into his ear.

He didn't mean to shiver, but his body betrayed him. "You know that a gentleman never…" he trailed off, not wanting to imply anything. God, there had to be some way out of this.

"Oh, got it. Well, that makes sense... considering Bryce." She pulled away as she said it.

Did she just say….DID SHE JUST SAY? His mouth began to work. "Bryce? Bryce? What are you talking about?"

She had moved to the other side of his head. "What, you don't know about Bryce? Bryce Larkin?" She moved right to his ear and dropped her voice. "Her boyfriend."

Chuck tried to process what he had been told. He had to get control of the situation, now. "Carina, I'm on call tonight, and I have a mission tomorrow. I need sleep."

"There's a bed right here," she purred, right near his ear.

"Why do I think I wouldn't get much sleep?" he asked, as he stood. She was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "Whatever they did or didn't do…" he shook his head.

"You know what would help you get over her?"

"There's nothing to get over," Chuck replied, grabbing his briefcase. "Thank you for the glass of champagne, but I need to go." He walked out the door and headed to his Herder. He didn't head home. He headed to the beach, and sat there, by himself and watched the sun rise. Bryce Larkin. He had gotten him kicked out of Stanford, slept with his girlfriend, sent him the Intersect, and somehow had sent his girlfriend to watch over him. The agent he was supposed to trust. Maybe the bunker wasn't so bad a thought after all.

}o{

Chuck was sitting in the Wienerlicious. He only had one thought on his mind; Sarah and Bryce...Well, didn't that make sense, Sarah was with Bryce. It was bad enough Bryce sent him the Intersect, but his girlfriend? Bryce stole the Intersect and the CIA sent his girlfriend? Was that why she knew about as much as he did? Or did she know more and she wasn't telling Chuck? She was a spy, and spies had secrets. He got that, but how exactly did she think this was going to go the longer she didn't tell him the truth about her and Bryce? How did she think he was going to react when she had talked to him privately about so many things and she didn't tell him this? She didn't owe him an explanation, but would a damn heads-up be too much to ask? The guy who had ruined his life at Stanford was still actively ruining his life now. Maybe he should just go into the bunker. No, if he did that, Bryce's ghost would just sit outside, eating peanuts, and throwing the shells at him.

"Chuck, are you listening?" Sarah had been talking about a mission. Who the hell cared about a mission? He had a corndog in front of him, staring at it as if it held the meaning of life instead of the mystery meat it contained. Maybe it did hold the meaning of life. Maybe he was the hotdog, wrapped in the batter of the Intersect and Sarah and the CIA were constantly sending him into boiling hot oil. If that was the case, Chuck was in trouble, because Sarah was many things, but knowing when to pull a corndog out of oil so as not to be burnt...that didn't seem to be very high in her skill set.

"Yeah, I heard you, we'll go in undercover as party guests."

She gave him a look. "Right, and we'll locate the diamond." She was giving him a look. If she knew that he knew what she and Bryce knew...Chuck had gotten lost.

Now Sarah wanted him to locate a diamond. Thanks, Bryce. Now I've been downgraded to a locator beacon. Maybe he wasn't a locator beacon. "Where's the diamond?" He let the corndog fall onto his tray. God, he hated Bryce Larkin, but that wasn't fair, Bryce was dead.

He could tell Sarah was trying to be patient with him, which was nice after his little outburst questioning why they never told him anything. He could also tell she was starting to get a little irritated with him. For once, he didn't care. Do his job, stay out of the bunker. That was his job. Don't upset anyone. God, he hated Bryce. "Well, that's your job, Chuck. The Intersect knew about Peyman Alahi's connection to the opium cartels."

Nope, he was a locator beacon and now they wanted him to risk his life for some diamond. Bryce's ghost would probably come steal it from him and propose to Sarah right in front of him. "So you want me to steal the diamond?" He truly felt like he was on autopilot.

"No, we'll grab the stone later. Today, we just get in, we find it, and we get out. And that's it."

Until Bryce's ghost showed up, stole the diamond, proposed to Sarah, she accepted, ran off with Bryce's ghost and he went into a bunker where Bryce would stop by every night, throwing the peanut shells of the peanuts he was eating at Chuck. "Right, get in, get out. Got it." Bryce fucking Larkin.

"Are you okay?"

A-ha, there's her cracking point. "Yeah, fine, why?"

"Well, you just seem a little... I don't know, something. Are you sick?" She gave him a smile as he pursed his lips.

He wasn't going to say anything, if she wouldn't say anything than he wouldn't say anything. Besides, if he said something she'd just spy her way out of answering truthfully. Mrs. Sarah Larkin married to a ghost that threw peanuts shells at him. "No, fine."

"Oh, one last thing. At the mansion, I need you to do me a favor and stick by my side."

That's probably where Bryce's ghost would pop up, peanut shells in hand. "Why is that?"

She looked….not flustered, but like she was having a hard time finding the words for what she was going to say. "Well, Carina, she likes to improvise, and things can get sticky fast. She likes trouble, and she looks for it. You know, one time in Pakistan, I really had to save her... Okay, it doesn't matter, but the point is that Carina is not to be trusted."

It was like a weight lifted off of his shoulders, specifically the weight of Bryce Larkin and his 100 pound bag of peanuts with the shells. He began to chuckle, he thought about that. Chuck chuckled. That thought made him chuckle. Good-bye Bryce along with your stupid peanuts. "Oh, Sarah. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that."

She looked a little surprised, but she quickly put a smile on her face. "What is it? Why?"

Chuck felt a little ashamed. How could someone like Sarah, who had been as open with him about everything not have told him about Bryce? Answer: she couldn't. And Carina was just trying to drive a wedge between them. "Well, Carina said something last night…"

She leaned in, shock covering her face. "Last night?"

Woops, with everything that had happened… "Oh, right. Uh, well, she put a call in to the Nerd Herd after-hours number and I was the one who was on call."

"Chuuuuuck." The way she said it said several things at once. Get to the point, tell me what happened, and why didn't you tell me this sooner.

"Look she appeared to be trying to...ahem," he looked away.

Sarah did not look happy. "Appeared?"

"I may have shut her down." Sarah's eyebrows went up. "What, just because I'm a nerd I can't resist her feminine charms?"

Chuck swore she had a pleased look on her face and a bit of a smirk. "Most don't."

He blew out a breath. "Well, she wasn't too pleased, I'm sure that's why she said to me what she did."

Sarah did not look pleased. She went from amused to...pissed off wasn't right, but she was not happy. Not happy at all. "What did she tell you?"

Scooter choose that moment to be the Scooter that Chuck despised. "Ms. Walker, your break is abutting the 25-minute mark."

She turned to Scooter. "Uh, one second, please." The look she gave Scooter dismissed him. She turned to Chuck, and he saw it, storm in her eyes. Oh, hell. "What did she say?"

Maybe Carina wasn't lying…he had to be careful... "I mean, it doesn't matter if it's not true."

She gave a quick head shake, her voice matching the intensity of her eyes. "Just, just tell me."

He paused. Go big or go home, right? "Something about Bryce and you... you know, being together."

The look on her face...oh God...they were. Why couldn't she have just told him? After everything Bryce had put Chuck through, she owed him that...or obviously she didn't. Sarah would keep him physically safe, Chuck knew that, but what he felt, it only went one way, as it should. She was trying to be nice to him the other day. She was trying to make this easier on him, and probably she had very good reasons in her mind not to tell him. He was sure she did. Those reasons sucked whatever they were. Chuck didn't blame her, Bryce was everything he wasn't, but God, didn't she see the spot this put him in?

Scooter picked the wrong moment to worry about condiments. "I'm sure whatever you lovebirds are discussing is a matter of national security, but the ketchup vat isn't just going to refill itself."

She stood up and gripped Scooter's arm walking him back to the counter. "Did you know that 55% of accidents occur in the kitchen? And I'm sure most of them are accidents."

Chuck needed a minute and he needed Scooter not to die. "Scooter, are you still playing Elder Scrolls IV?" Scooter nodded. "Give us ten more minutes, and I'll give you my free expansion pack of Shivering Isles." Scooter beamed and ran off, leaving them alone. She was sitting right beside him. "It's not true, right? You and Bryce, that's not true, right?"

Chuck knew in his heart the spy mask she wore just slid off her face. All he could think was, please tell me the truth, whatever it is, tell me the truth. Respect me enough for that.

She said those words that made his head want to explode. "It was complicated."

He was quiet for a second. "Sarah, it's your personal life, I don't begrudge you, but you understand all he did to me." She never moved a muscle. "Sarah, statistical analysis is complicated, my feelings on the Star Wars prequels is complicated, two people being together isn't complicated." He was silent as he waited for an answer. She never said a thing. "I thought you were supposed to be good at lying." He got up, and walked out of the Wienerlicious, wondering what in the hell he had done to Bryce Larkin in a previous life to deserve this cosmic serving of bullshit that had been dumped on him.

}o{

Chuck took the suit from Casey without saying a word. It was linen and the more he looked at it in the mirror, the less he cared for it. Were those his boxers? Oh, hell no. He shut his eyes and shook his head. He wasn't sure if this mission could get any worse. He opened his eyes, staring at the mirror when he noticed Casey in the reflection.

"You can see my boxers, can't you?"

"Not looking," came the surly reply.

"Casey," Chuck said warningly, hardly even recognizing his tone. Casey stared at him. Was that respect on Casey's face? Must be indigestion.

"Yeah," Casey muttered. Was Chuck losing his mind or was Casey having a conflicting thought? "I hate this assignment," he muttered.

"Yeah, it's been a real laugh for me. Go do this, Bartowski, cause if you don't you'll end up in the bunker." Casey glared at him. "Right, it's for the greater good. Greater good my ass, everyone's getting the greater good around here except for me." Chuck headed for the door.

Casey grimaced. "Skipping the pre-mission briefing?" Chuck turned, stunned. "Yeah, no one is more surprised than me."

"Thank you." Casey glared at him, and Chuck hurried on. "I mean I just figured if anyone would, Sarah would but...well."

"Listen, kid. Carina likes to stir shit up. She gets what she wants, not caring what mayhem she leaves in her wake." Chuck thought about that for a second. "You can bet your ass whatever she said to you that's making you throw this hissyfit there's something behind it."

"Or maybe she's the first person to tell me the truth," Chuck countered like a petulant child.

Casey's eyes narrowed. "How do you know what she told you is true?"

"Sarah confirmed it." Casey looked dubious. "She did. She gave me some line about it being complicated."

"Most spy work is, numbnuts." Casey looked constipated. "I am going to regret this. What did Carina tell you?"

"She told me that Sarah and Bryce were a couple." The way he said it was like the biggest reveal in a huge mystery. Casey looked like he had told him how to make toast. "Casey…."

"I assumed you knew." It was obvious by the look on Casey's face that he was actually enjoying this. "Jealous, Bartowski?"

"Jealous? Me?" His voice was going up in octaves. "You know what, you are damn right I am! That son of a bitch got me kicked out of Stanford, he sent me this stupid ass computer stuck in my head, and then this...dating Sarah thing? I'll tell you what I really am, and that's mad, but if you want to hear me say I'm jealous, too? Hell yes I'm jealous."

"Who said anything about dating?" Chuck froze at those words. "Bartowski, what kind of life do you think a spy has? Do you think we get to see our families, our friends? Carina is probably the closest person Walker has, do you think they're that close? A spy has two choices, be a fuckin' nun, or find someone else who has similar circumstances. It sure as hell ain't about love, and if it is it will never last because it's shit like that ends up gettin' you killed."

"What are you saying, Casey?" Chuck's face was contorted. He couldn't help feeling a bit of relief at the idea that deep, genuine feelings might not have been involved. It stung to think otherwise... "Are you saying it was...convenient?" he tried to clarify.

"You'd have to ask her, but I wouldn't be shocked if that was exactly what it was. I get it, kid. You're having lady feelings over her not telling you that her and Bryce were mixing their chocolate and peanut butter."

"What does that even mean?" Chuck asked.

Casey ignored him and continued. "But let me ask you two things. One, what damn business is it of yours anyway?" Chuck didn't have a good answer for that. "That's what I thought. Two, how exactly did you want her to tell you?" Chuck blanched. "Yeah, exactly. Hey, Chuck! Bryce and I used to go to Pound Town."

"Okay, stop."

"Hey, Chuck! Bryce and I used to entangle the lower beards."

"Oh my God."

"Hey, Chuck! Bryce and I used to make a magical sandwich."

"I'm seriously gonna throw up."

"Hey, Chuck! Bryce and I used to take Grandma to Applebee's."

"Did I die and end up in hell?"

"Hey, Chuck—"

"CASEY I GET IT!" Chuck looked like he might throw up on his suit at any moment.

"Which brings me back to the point that started all of this," Casey said calmly. "Why would Carina tell you about that?" Chuck didn't have an answer. "She plays games. In this line of work that's trouble. She is trouble. She thrives off of driving wedges between people and ruining shit. Understand?"

Chuck nodded.

"And by the way, you do realized I killed Sarah's boy toy and she still has to work with me, right?" Chuck opened his mouth twice and then shut it. "So as awkward as it is for you to know..." Chuck raised a finger telling him not to. Casey grinned. "...they took the magic bus to Manchester..." Chuck looked ill. "...I promise you it's more awkward for us." Casey looked him over. "Carina's gonna love seeing those boxers."

Casey started toward the door.

"Grandma to Applebee's?" Chuck breathed, shaking his head.

"I don't make the euphemisms, kid."

Chuck shuddered and followed him out the door.

}o{

She hadn't said a word to Carina the entire time she changed. She saw his face in her thoughts: the hurt, the pain, the betrayal.

 _Damn it, Bryce. Why the hell did you get Chuck kicked out of Stanford? Why the hell did you send him the Intersect? And why the hell did Carina tell Chuck about Bryce?_

...She knew the answer to the last one. To cause problems. That's what she did. Carina was good, damn good, one of the best. The problem was she played for one team and one team only: hers. Everything else was fair game. Carina had an MO. Show up, fuck up, and get the hell out of town and let everyone else deal with the fallout. Carina looked at her a couple of times like she wanted to say something, but the look on Sarah's face must have made the redhead keep her mouth shut.

If Carina was scared by the look on her face, she would have been terrified by what Sarah was feeling. Her chest hurt. She couldn't even imagine all of the things that were most likely going through Chuck's head. It was his thing to take every little omission or lie to mean he couldn't trust anyone. Damn it, she had just fixed everything, she had handled what almost happened in the courtyard… Well, not handled, but it was as handled as it could be without getting into something that would hurt him even worse. She had sworn to protect Chuck and now she was the one hurting him.

They went downstairs as Casey pulled up, and Chuck hopped out, opened the far door for Carina, and before Sarah could get to the car, he hurried to her side and opened it for her. As she lifted her gaze to his, she saw he was watching her closely, smiling just a little. It wasn't a smile anyone would see but her, she knew. And after yesterday, she didn't understand why. He didn't look angry or hurt anymore, the way he had in the Wienerlicious. And there was a softness in his eyes as he tilted his head in a gesture for her to get in. She just furrowed her brow at him and climbed into the car, staring straight ahead as he shut her door for her.

As they headed toward Malibu, Sarah couldn't figure out what had changed. She was looking towards the front when she caught Casey's eye in the rearview mirror and saw him give the slightest of nods. What was going on? Had Casey interceded somehow? God, this mess just kept getting deeper and deeper. They arrived at the party and the three went in. She knew Carina, and knew she would socialize. Chuck would need a minute, so Sarah decided there wasn't much more damage Carina could do and she broke off to check out the compound. During one of her sweeps, she noticed Chuck and Carina standing very close together, and part of her...She pushed that away, no time for that. One thing did catch her eye, though...were those Chuck's boxers? She hid a smile and checked out the rest of the compound. She headed back toward Carina just as she heard her tell Chuck to go be casual.

"There's a southern egress with two armed guards and by the garage exit, three more." She was walking with Carina. She knew now was not the best time, but with Carina there never was a good time. "Why did you tell him about Bryce? You compromised my cover."

Carina rolled her eyes. "We're on a mission here, Sarah. Try keeping your private life and work life separate for a change."

Sarah stopped them both, with a grip on Carina's wrist. Carina looked at her in shock. "You have blown my cover. I get that's not important to you, but I am supposed to protect him. You caused him to lose faith in me. Chuck is not like us, Carina. He's not a spy, I know you know that, and he doesn't understand all the things we do. I don't know what the hell it is you're after, but I hope ruining everything I've worked for is worth it." Sarah threw down Carina's wrist and walked off. She thought for once Carina might be speechless.

Sarah walked up to Chuck, noticing him staring into the pool, distracted. She wanted to know what he was thinking, and she was afraid to know at the same time.

"Hey, we okay?" she asked, Chuck turned around slowly and blinked at her. "How are you?"

He looked very nervous. "Uh, yeah, I'm cool. I'm cool."

"You are," she replied, trying to keep his confidence up. "But are we okay?"

He continued to look nervous, but nodded. She could tell by his eyes he was serious. "Yeah. I owe you an apology."

"Listen, later, we can talk. Okay?"

Chuck nodded. He made a gesture and they started walking towards the mansion. "Um, so I count six SVB-54 explosion-protected security cameras with infrared surveillance."

He was getting better at not showing the flashes. "Did you have a flash?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Did... No, they sell them at the spy shop in the Buy More Plaza."

She gave him a smile. "Do you visit it frequently?"

Chuck reddened a little. "What can I say? Those gidgets and gadgets in James Bond always fascinated me." They entered the mansion as Carina followed behind them. "You know I need some way to keep an eye on Morgan."

"Ahh," she said with a grin. "I'm surprised you didn't go with a nanny cam."

"Phbbt," Chuck replied like it was the craziest thing in the world. He leaned in, catching her off guard. "The bearded one finds those waaay too easily," he drawled close to her ear. Sarah had to stifle a giggle. "Gotta keep them out of his reach." He raised his cup to his lips as he spoke. "Thermal imaging cameras, north and west walls."

Oh. The nerd was getting good at this. For some reason that didn't surprise her. "Someone really doesn't want us getting in there."

Carina sauntered past them. "Let's go for a little stroll." Sarah shook her head. This was what she did. Took charge of stuff, rushed headlong into something that didn't require it, and then after that came dodging bullets in heels.

Chuck leaned toward her. "So, how would you have done this with Bryce?" She spun and looked at him. There was nothing snarky about it. There was no maliciousness in his voice, it was clearly curiosity.

"Right now's not the time."

Chuck nodded. Sarah followed Carina inside. They walked down the steps to the vault. Carina pulled out an electronic doohickey, she was sure Chuck knew the name for it, and plugged it into the number lock on the outside. The lock clicked and the door opened.

"That's awesome," Chuck said in a revenant whisper. Sarah couldn't help but smile at the appreciation Chuck showed for the equipment.

"There you are," Carina said to the diamond.

A pink diamond. Something was off. Very off. Sarah approached Carina. "You know, I really think we should go now."

"Just 30 more seconds," Carina said as Chuck walked around to admire it. Guns were cocked and all three looked up at the very hairy man. Very. Hairy. Good God, he looked like a Wookie from the Empire Strikes back that she used to watch long ago when her dad fell asleep and they had jacked someone's HBO.

The walking carpet looked at Sarah and Carina, and she knew what was about to happen. "So you like my diamond?"

Time for the dumb blonde routine. "Oh... yeah." She looked over at Carina who grinned at her. They were on the same page...But when they got out of here the two of them were gonna have a very long talk. "Uh, it's really pretty."

The Wookie tried to sound disappointed, but Sarah could tell by his face he had plans. _In your dreams._ "You're not supposed to be here."

It was time to play really dumb. She gave him her best wide-eyed, air-headed, innocent/stupid smile she had in her arsenal. "Oh, I'm, I'm really sorry, but the door was unlocked." She saw Carina hold in the gag. "And, uh, and who are you?"

The Wookie looked her up and down. She really hoped she got the chance to kick his ass properly later. "Pretty girls call me Peyman." She hated that men like this generally got away with stupid lines like that. It was gross.

"Hi, Peyman," Carina said quickly.

"Hey, Peym—" Chuck tried to get out, but Carina cut back in.

"I'm Carina," she began in her air-headed voice. "This is Sarah, and this is our brother Chuckie."

"Yo," Chuck said, lifting his glass. Sarah really wanted to roll her eyes.

Peyman turned to his bodyguards. "Your brother? More good news for me." Peyman held his arms out and both women walked up to him. She'd keep this going until they could get out of here, and then she'd take a scalding hot shower.

"So, uh, what would I have to do to get this thing on my finger?" Carina asked as innocently as possible.

"It is said that he who owns the Nadan-I-Noor rules the world." Sarah had her eyes on Chuck. He was very uncomfortable. He looked like he was fighting himself not to react. She looked at him and pleaded with her eyes for him not to react. He seemed to loosen up slightly.

Carina pressed on. "Wow. So... what if, like, someone tried to steal it?"

Chuck grinned awkwardly. Sarah let out a nervous laugh and so did Carina.

Peyton looked smug. "It's impossible to steal."

"Oh." Carina was giving an Academy Award performance as an airhead and Peyton was buying it hook, line, and sinker.

Peyton continued his bragging. "Because if touched, the vault will seal itself off, the gas will fill the room, and after that, my security team would eliminate the threat."

Chuck was looking around, scared. Peyton took his hand that was around Carina's shoulders and pointed it at Sarah and made a pistol sound as he mimicked pulling the trigger. Sarah's eyes got big and she let out an exaggerated "Ooh," while laughing nervously. She looked in Chuck's direction begging him to keep his cool. They had this. They had been in worse jams. Chuck's face screamed terror, but this might be the one time it worked. Peyton obviously liked to be the most important man in the room, the person with the most power.

Peyton looked at Sarah and then looked down her body, checking her out. Sarah made a mental note to crush his nuts in a fight if she ever got the opportunity. "But me, I am more of a lover than a fighter." He checked out Sarah's ass, and grabbed a handful while he was at it.

Sarah laughed, and let out an, "Oh!"

Chuck's fear was starting to leave and in it's place was anger. She had to get control of this quickly. "Wow, you know, I saw some really cool paintings outside. Can I have a look?"

Peyton turned her and led her outside. "Sure." He led her out into the hallway leading her by the elbow. "You like this one?"

"Oh, yeah." She giggled.

Peyton leaned up against the wall. "You know? You've got a nice pair of eyes amongst other nice pairs." She had changed her mind, she was going to rip off his balls and feed them to him. Sarah had to keep him busy and hoped Carina didn't pull something crazy. "I should give you a private tour sometime."

"Oh, I don't know. I have to look after my brother."

"He's not real bright is he? He hardly said much and if someone were to do to you what I did, I would have punched him right in the mouth."

Sarah had to push down the feelings that welled up inside of her with that comment. How dare he... _Get a grip, Sarah._ She tried to glance into the vault but couldn't see anything. "What do you like about this painter the most?" _Please let him be as much of an ass as I think he is._

"Oh, the dude liked to paint naked girls. I mean, I can't say I blame him."

Sarah was rubbing her neck with her far hand, trying to get rid of the tension lest she get out a pair of tweezers and start pulling off all the hairs off of this idiot one at a time. That was when the alarm went off. Peyton turned toward the vault, and then back to Sarah. She slugged him in the face, knocking him flat on his ass. He was out cold. She wasn't surprised it had been so easy. She rushed to the door to see Carina sliding under out from under it. "Hey, this was only recon!" she snapped.

Carina gave her a look when they heard someone yell, "Hey!" She turned and the guards were on their way. The fight began, and it was therapeutic after that hairy carpet had just put his hands all over her. She and Carina took out the men when she saw Chuck sliding under the door in a much less graceful fashion. She reached down to pull him to his feet.

He came up with the diamond in hand. "I got it! I got it!"

They raced up the stairs and outside. "What were you thinking?" Sarah asked Carina over her shoulder once they got out of the mansion.

Chuck yelled and pointed. "Bad guys approaching fast!"

Another fight began and Carina fought while she talked. God, this was Sarajevo all over again. "So I made a split-second decision. I was doing us a favor!"

Sarah roundhouse kicked a man in the face. "Stop doing me favors!"

For some unknown reason Chuck decided to cut through the pool and she couldn't help but grin as she heard him. "Excuse me, pardon me! Your shoulders are looking a little red!" Out of the corner of her eye she saw the guard before he did. "Oh, no, no!" The guard pulled the gun. Sarah grabbed a plate from a guest and did her best discus toss. It hit the guard in the face, knocking him to the ground. Chuck looked down at the guard, then turned to look up at her. "Thank you!" In all her years in the field she never remembered anyone taking a second to thank her. Not that she needed it, but it was nice, you know.

Sarah clicked the mic on her watch to talk to Casey. "Carina improvised. She snatched the diamond. Meet us on the beach."

"I'm on it." Casey answered. He cut the connection. She had no idea what they were gonna do, but now they had multiple messes to clean up, all thanks to Carina. They were going to have a long talk when they got back, and then. Shit. Then she was going to talk to Chuck.

}o{

Running in sand was hard enough, but doing it in fancy shoes absolutely sucked. Especially when bad men shaped like Optimus-Prime were after you, wanting to kill you.

He nearly staggered as he followed after Carina and Sarah, both of them much faster than he was, and infinitely more graceful.

"Hey, Carina! What now?" Sarah asked. He heard the frustration and sarcasm in it. They weren't supposed to steal the diamond. That hadn't been the plan, and yet… It just proved what both Sarah and Casey had told him more than once. She improvised. She caused trouble. And yeah, she'd told him the truth when she told him about Bryce and Sarah, but her reasoning for doing it was insincere at best. Now she'd made a rash decision, going off book, and they were in deep shit. He thought Sarah was letting her figure out how to get them out again.

"You two run for it. Gimme the stone; I'll take the heat!" she said over her shoulder. "You can double back and get me out!"

"What?!" Sarah exclaimed breathlessly. And then she spun back to look at him. "No, she's lying!"

"Chuck, _trust me_!" Carina exclaimed.

He was pitted between them now, both physically and figuratively. The DEA agent had told him the truth about Bryce and Sarah when Sarah'd actively chosen to keep it from him. Sarah had downright lied to him about it, even. And then there was the CIA agent who was supposed to protect him, did protect him, but kept things from him, important things… But did she really? She told him everything he needed to know that would keep him alive, didn't she? She didn't owe him anything more than that.

Why were they doing this to him? This was already hard enough. He'd had the worst few days...few _weeks_. He was being pulled one way by Sarah, pulled another way by Carina, and Casey was pulling him in...he didn't know which way. Sarah's way? He didn't know. He didn't know. He didn't know. He was terrified. They'd just stolen a diamond from a hugely important opium cartel guy who boasted to "pretty girls" about murdering intruders. He didn't know who was lying to him. Maybe Carina was...And maybe he was being manipulated by everyone. He had to keep his head on straight, focus, help them get out of this. His safety wasn't the only thing on the line here.

He apparently couldn't trust Carina, according to everyone else, but they still were making him work with her. He couldn't trust her, but didn't he _have_ to? Sarah and Bryce were lovers. That hurt in the deepest pit of his chest even though he wasn't mad at Sarah for it. But life felt so stupidly unfair and screwed up. He just wanted to go home and crawl underneath his bed and stay there in the dark. He wanted to be left alone. He didn't know where to go or what to do. But he still had to focus.

Sarah stopped and turned to face him full on, putting a hand on his chest to stop him, too. And in spite of the wind on the beach whipping her hair over her face, she looked him right in his eye. "Remember what I said."

"Chuck, we're running out of time. Give me the diamond."

His fingers tightened around it as he glanced at Carina. She marched up to him, standing face to face, moving Sarah aside. "Sarah lied to you about Bryce, Chuck. I didn't. You can trust me."

"You—" Sarah started, but then she turned and spotted something over his shoulder, behind him. "Oh my God." He followed her gaze and saw two of Alahi's men running onto the beach towards them. In a moment, Sarah had her gun out—where she'd kept it, he had no idea—and she put a hand on his arm, pushing him towards Carina. "I've got this."

He yelped as she shot at the two men, causing them to scramble back behind the rocks.

And then he spun to face Carina again.

Her eyes got wide suddenly when more gunfire came from behind the rocks. "Sarah!" she gasped, horror in her face.

He felt an intense shock of cold fear shoot through him as he spun, his grip on the diamond loosening as he forgot he even had the thing in the first place. But then he saw Sarah was shooting back, just fine, a look of confusion on her face. She glanced at him for a moment and her eyes suddenly widened as she reached out towards him with her hand. "Chuck, look out!"

He felt fingers close around his and take the small bag, and he immediately knew he'd been played. But as he turned back to the redhead, she slammed her foot into his chest and sent him sprawling onto his back in the sand. "Sorry, Chuckie!" She pressed a button she'd retrieved from her bra and he watched from where he was still lying in shock as a jet ski swept up out of the water. It was so cool. So so cool. And shit, he'd screwed up.

"YOU PLANNED THIS?!" Sarah yelled. He thought _You bitch_ was implied in her tone.

More gunshots came from behind the rocks and Sarah dove for the sand to make herself a harder target, getting off a few more shots of her own so they scrambled for cover. Then she turned to watch with him as Carina dashed towards the water, pulling her dress off and revealing her bikini beneath.

"Catch you later!"

A bullet hit the sand right near his shoulder and he yelped, jumping away from it.

"Stay down!" Sarah ordered, shooting back. He watched as Carina climbed onto the jet ski and zoomed off, leaving them to essentially die.

But then he heard the terrifying clicking sound of a gun that was out of bullets. Sarah turned to look at him with wide eyes and he looked back. "Aw, shit…" she breathed.

Suddenly, a black Hummer peeled its way onto the beach and slid to a stop. _Casey!_

"Get in!" the NSA agent belted, and as Sarah sprung at Chuck, helping him to his feet, Casey swung his gun out of his window and unleashed a flurry of bullets on Alahi's men.

"Chuck, take the front!" Sarah shoved him towards the Hummer and he rushed around to get in the front as she dashed around the other way to climb into the back.

"Go! Go! Go!" Chuck breathed in utter fear, ducking low in his seat as Casey slammed his foot on the gas and drove them away from danger. They all stayed low until he pulled back onto a main road and Chuck sat up again. "What in the hell?!"

"I told you not to trust her!" Sarah snapped from the backseat.

"Lemme guess," Casey growled. "Carina got away with the diamond."

"Of course she did!" she snapped again. "Chuck gave it to her!"

Casey turned a severe look on him and he spun to give Sarah a betrayed look. "I did not give it to her! She distracted me and stole it! I wasn't gonna give it to her! You two told me not to trust her and I didn't!"

Sarah appeared suddenly from the back, unclasping the halter dress at her neck as she raised her voice. "I have to be able to trust you on a mission, Chuck. No matter what you think is happening to me!"

"She made it seem like you'd been shot! How am I not supposed to react to that?! What was I supposed to do?!"

"Hold onto the damn diamond!" She'd since ducked into the back again, fiddling with her dress some more. She leaned back in and glared at him. "Our orders were to bring the diamond in, Chuck! Did you hear what Director Graham said?! He said Carina wasn't to have the diamond. Under _no_ circum—"

"Circumstances! I know I know! What is she gonna do with it? Is she—Is she gonna sell it?!" he asked in a panic.

"Nah, she's a gamer. She'll give it to her bosses and move up the DEA's covert ranks," Casey growled.

He felt like shit. He'd let himself get played again, even though his eyes had actually been wide open this time. But the thought of one of Alahi's men's bullets having met their target in Agent Walker had made him feel more panic than he'd ever felt in his entire life. Carina had to have known and she'd used it to distract him. Why was he so fucking transparent? And now he'd failed his team. Were they a team? Or was he still just a damn tool?

He _was_ a tool...in at least one way.

But then he lifted his eyes to the rearview mirror and saw that Sarah was tugging a shirt down over her torso… "W-What are you doing?" he asked her.

"I can't believe I have to work this _stupid_ hotdog shift! I call in sick again, I'll get canned!" she growled through her teeth, sounding angrier than he'd ever heard her before. And he'd had her anger directed right at him at least once. This…? She sounded real mad. Crap.

Her phone rang and he watched as she sat all the way up, answering it. "What?!" she spat. There was a pause then as she listened. "Well, you left us to die!" Oh. Wow. That woman had guts to be calling Sarah right now. She was mean, messed up, conniving...but she had guts. "You're burning your bridge, Carina, and the CIA is gonna have your ass for this."

She listened for two more seconds and snapped her phone shut, throwing it onto the seat next to her with a thump.

"You go to work, I'll get the diamond," Casey said then.

"What?"

He lifted a phone between them and Chuck heard the quiet beeping coming from it. He frowned and watched as Sarah leaned over his shoulder to fix the vents of the air conditioner to face her better before ducking back down again.

"NSA magic," Casey said, wiggling the phone. "I put a tracer on her phone. Where she's going, I'm going."

Sarah was quiet, so Chuck lifted his gaze back up to the mirror, catching her looking down as she slowly buttoned up her Wienerlicious blouse...dewy, tan skin...smooth…

Casey's hand suddenly blocked the view and flipped the switch to night mode so that the mirror wasn't facing her anymore. "Eyes up front, soldier."

"I-I—" He pointed straight ahead, looking straight ahead. "What are you—I was lookin'..."

Nope, he'd been caught. It hadn't even been on purpose, but he hadn't exactly looked away either, and damn, he needed to just shut up. He turned to send Casey a meaningful glare, not appreciating the smirk on the jerk's face. The jerk who'd just saved his life.

Woops.

* * *

 **A/N:** If nothing else, you learned new sexual euphemisms today. Told you I could be childish. -DC

I let him have that because I'm nice. -SC


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** DC here. I'll be lucky if she doesn't delete this but...you know what I love best about writing with SC? We'll sometimes hit a spot and we're trying to figure out what to do, and one of us will message the other one: "trust me?" (Yeah, we do that on purpose) And then the other sits back and watches (well, let's be honest, sometimes SC has to tone down the fluff….I do get carried away). There's been times when one of us writes and the other reads something, puts down a word to use instead or a phrase, and then it's off to the races. Guys, it's so much fun, I'm pretty sure it's not legal. Now some may yell this is canon, but please, pay attention to what each character is saying and feeling, because they are changing, and next chapter….hehehehe...you ain't ready for it(walks off whistling, swinging pocket watch on a chain)

(checks pocket) Hey! How the hell did you get my watch, David? And my chain? -SC

* * *

She shook herself at the smell of something burning and hissed a curse as she realized she'd left the wieners spinning for too long. She opened the door to the cooker and cursed again, trying to take them out with her tongs.

"That's the second time you've done that, Miss Walker," Scooter said from behind her.

"I know!" she spat at him and he shrunk back a bit. She didn't care.

Carina had succeeded in her scheming once again and Sarah couldn't remember the last time she'd been this pissed about anything. Casey was probably right. With that diamond, Carina was going to get herself practically canonized by her administrators. She didn't give a shit what the plan was supposed to be.

And she'd used Chuck along the way, and that was the part that infuriated Sarah the most. The DEA agent had found the perfect place to stick the needle, and she'd damn well stuck it over and over and over, knocking Chuck's focus off balance, screwing with the trust he had in his handler.

Sarah believed him, though. She believed Chuck wasn't going to give Carina the diamond, as much as she'd waxed poetic about telling the truth about Bryce where Sarah had lied. Yeah, Sarah did lie to Chuck about the extra connection she'd had with her ex-partner. But she didn't owe him that truth. That was _her_ truth. And she understood it had hurt him, she felt terrible about it, but damn it, he didn't have the right to let that cause him to lose trust in her.

Apparently he hadn't lost trust in her, though...at least, not enough to let Carina fool him into jumping sides. But the wily bitch had gotten him anyway with yet another seriously cheap move. And Sarah didn't think she was about to live it down.

All she'd had to do to distract Chuck was to pretend Sarah'd gotten hurt and his focus was smashed to smithereens. She'd seen the way he'd paled as he looked towards her. She'd been confused at first, both by Carina's shout of her name, and then the terror in Chuck's face as he spun on his heels.

And she'd figured it out around the same time as it looked like he did. She tried to warn him, but it was too late. He'd let himself get played, the diamond was Carina's, and screw that fucking redhead for all of it, but especially for the heavy-handed symbolism of landing her kick right into his chest over where his heart was. She knew the bitch had done that on purpose. It was mean. And it wasn't funny.

Sarah hadn't felt all that confident when Casey sped away after dropping her and Chuck off in the Buy More lot. It wasn't anything against Casey, really, but his track record with the DEA agent wasn't great. Not only that, she hadn't heard from him in an hour. And she had a bad feeling about that.

Her status check text had gone unanswered. That wasn't like him.

"Not the trashcan!" Scooter practically shrieked. "Some of those might be salvageable!"

"Great! You do it. I need to take my break."

"What?"

She thrust the tongs into Scooter's hand and rushed past him. "Emergency."

"We really need to have a talk about your commitment to this job, you know."

"Great. Maybe when I get back," she said offhandedly, grabbing her purse and her jacket, then rushing out, leaving him to deal with the mess. She had a feeling she had a far bigger mess on her hands, but she needed to talk to Chuck first.

Not the talk they really needed to have. _Yet another talk._ But he needed to know where she was going, and that he had to go straight home. She wouldn't have Carina, or this Alahi bullshit, touch him again. It wasn't supposed to have touched him in the first place.

But Carina Miller…

Growling to herself, she hurried across the parking lot and walked right in through the automatic doors. She was relieved to spot Chuck at his desk, his back to the door as he typed away on a laptop he was most likely fixing.

She practically ran to him, ignoring Lester completely as he looked up at her, and she rounded the desk, slamming her jacket down on top of it, getting his attention by saying his name. He glanced at her over his shoulder, did a bit of a double take, and immediately moved towards her, open and receptive...the complete opposite of what he'd been yesterday in the Wienerlicious after that shitty revelation that wasn't even supposed to have happened.

"I haven't heard from Casey in an hour so I'm going to Carina's hotel." She grabbed her jacket and quickly shrugged it on. "And I need you to stay home tonight, got it?"

"You don't want my help?" he asked.

Hell no. "Not tonight."

"So I'm off the team."

She clenched her jaw inwardly, but kept her features even. She shouldn't have expected anything else from him. He was going to take this personally. But she didn't have time to make him feel better, and she also needed him to freaking stay safe, away from this so she didn't have to worry about protecting him on top of everything else.

"No, Chuck. Just benched." She raised her eyebrows and pulled her pigtails from the collar of her jacket. "But we're gonna have to talk about what happened." She met his brown eyes steadily and watched as his shoulders slumped, his brow furrowed.

Sarah knew it probably wasn't fair to give him the 'we have to talk' line and bounce but she didn't trust herself to say anything else, and she especially didn't trust herself if she let _him_ say something, so she hurried away from him, speed walking out of the Buy More altogether.

Something inside of her stung, but she pushed it to the side, because she most likely had to go rescue her damn partner from Satan, and she needed to focus on that.

She changed in the car again, for the second time in less than two hours, deciding the back of a Hummer was a lot easier than the back of a Porsche. And then she sped to the hotel Carina had moved to last night, figuring the agent would hide out there until she could get the DEA to provide transport. Casey had most likely found her there and...well, she wasn't going to assume, but...well, yes she was.

She was going to assume.

Because men were idiots.

Sarah hurried down the hallway towards Carina's room not ten minutes later, her lock pick out of her pocket before she even got to the door.

She made quick work of it, grabbing her gun as she pushed the door open and pointing it as she stepped across the threshold. Her jaw fell open as she spotted Casey prone on the bed, in his undershirt and boxer shorts, his wrists shackled to the headboard, a gag in his mouth.

Sarah found herself smirking as she reached back to blindly swing the door shut behind her, moving further into the room, unable to keep from sauntering.

"Wow," she drawled as relief spilled over her partner's face. It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. And the fact that this kept working for Carina was a testament to her power, and also to the stupidity of the male libido. "Just like Prague, huh?"

Casey made an angry growl behind his gag and glared at her. She didn't have to work too hard to decipher what he was growling at her as she stopped and popped her leg, her hand on her hip as she just barely held back a laugh.

This was too good an opportunity to pass up, though. So she took her phone out, pointed it at him, and took a picture. "Smile!"

His growls became ferocious as she wondered just what she might do with this picture now that she had it. She shifted over to his side of the bed and chuckled quietly, taking another picture from a different angle. "For posterity, ya know?"

"Ffffmmmmfff mfffffffggrrrr fmmmmm!"

"Oh, don't worry, Casey. We'll get her back. Which would be different from Prague. Too bad you didn't have a partner like me back then, huh?"

Before she could get her phone back into its holder, preparing to actually untie Casey now that she'd laughed at him a little, the door she'd just come through burst open. Her hand landed on her gun, but Alahi's voice filled the room.

"You even touch it and you get a bullet in your brain, Blondie."

 _Shit._

She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, slowly easing her hands up by her head. One of Alahi's men grabbed her arm and shoved her to stagger a few feet, spinning on her heel and facing them all, hands still up.

The other took her gun, then slipped it into his belt. Mother fucker.

"That dumb blonde act was pretty good."

"It wasn't my best, actually. You're just a fucking dumbass," she said, and the first guy who'd manhandled her came at her again. She got one punch in, swiping her fist across his nose, but he didn't go down, as much as his eyes were watering, and instead he grabbed her arm and twisted it painfully behind her back. She cried out in pain and winced, letting him shove her down so her torso was perpendicular to the floor.

"Not so brave when you don't have your gun or your little redheaded partner, are you?"

"She isn't my partner," Sarah ground out through gritted teeth. "She betrayed me, too. She ran off with it, left me to die."

"Oh, sure. And I don't even know what in the hell is going on here with this big guy, but I like his boxer shorts." She looked up through her eyelashes to see he was smirking over at Casey, the gun he held still pointed at her. "Give me a good reason I shouldn't just kill you both right here."

"We can help you find her. And the diamond."

He nodded at the man holding onto her and she felt her arm get yanked harder. She yelped and shut her eyes tightly. He'd just barely managed to keep it from dislocating altogether, but God, it hurt.

"What if I don't trust you?" He leaned down at eye level. "See, my father warned me about pretty girls. I should have listened to him. But! I have a safeguard. Guns. A terrorist network in the palm of my hand. So that when pretty girls like you, like that slinky red-haired bitch, try to screw with me...they don't succeed."

A terrorist network…? This guy was psychotic, obviously, on a wicked power trip, but he'd just talked about terrorists...not an opium cartel…

"I'm a nice guy. A forgiving guy. So I'll give you a chance. I'll give you a chance to call her, get her back here, with. my. diamond." He gestured with his other hand and his goon let go of her arm. She winced and stood up, shaking her arm out and glaring at him. "Now, don't give me that loo—"

Her phone rang suddenly where she'd dropped it after Alahi came in with his gun pointed at her. She saw Chuck's face appear on the screen. God, what in the hell was with him and Morgan and timing?

"Oh, is that...Chuckie was it? The idiot who didn't know what kind of boxers to wear under a white suit?"

"You're a fifty-something year old man who walked around in nothing but a speedo all day, so who's really the problem here, Peyman?" she snarked. One of his men came towards her, probably to hit her but Alahi lifted a hand to stop him.

"No, no. I like her spirit." He chuckled. Then he sobered and lifted the gun to point it at her head. "Give her the phone." She was handed the phone. "Answer it."

She did. "Hello?"

"Sarah! Ooohhh, heeyy, thank God. Listen, I know that you're really mad at me right now, okay? But y—Wait, you know this is Chuck, right?"

Sarah just barely held back a roll of her eyes. "Yes, Chuck. I do." The gun came closer to her and she held up her free hand by her head, just to emphasize that she wasn't making any false moves.

"Okay, good. Goodgoodgood. Okay, listen. The diamond. The diamond that we stole from the wooly mammoth. It is not a drug diamond, okay? I repeat. It is not a drug diamond. It belongs to an Afghani terrorist group. Look, I could get into a lot more details but the point is it is way more dangerous than we thought," he rambled. She didn't have time to think too much on it, but she thought maybe Chuck had flashed...on what, she had no idea. What in his apartment would he have flashed on? And it made sense now that this bastard was working for a terrorist group. But how had the DEA gotten this so wrong? It didn't matter. What mattered was that she did what Alahi told her to do.

She needed to survive this. And then she would kick this guy's ass again.

"Chuck," she said steadily. "Find Carina and tell her to bring me the diamond."

"What?" he murmured. "Sarah, what are—?"

"Please."

"What's going on? Sarah, did you find Casey?"

"Remember what I said about Carina? If I'm actively telling you I want you to find her and have her bring that diamond to me at her hotel…" She paused dramatically. "So you need to know I _really_ mean it."

There was a bit of a pause. And then she heard a quiet gasp. He'd figured it out. "Shit. Okay, okay, okay...Okay, I've got this. I'll—"

"Carina, Chuck. Find her." Her phone was grabbed out of her hand and Alahi hung up, tossing it onto the bed.

"I think he got the message. At least...you better hope, hm?"

She wasn't sure how she felt about her fate being in Chuck's hands as she stood there looking down the barrel of a gun. But way worse than that, she definitely wasn't psyched about her fate being in Carina's hands.

}o{

Chuck paced back and forth in his kitchen. He'd had to play it cool as he brought Morgan another grape soda and more pizza. He'd forgotten the game his friend had told him to grab, though, because he'd also found the freaking diamond in Morgan's bag along with said video game. So here he was, staring at it, the diamond still in his hand. Carina had probably slipped it into Morgan's bag when she'd kissed him...But why? What in the hell was she playing at?

How was he supposed to find Carina? How did a civilian with an Intersect in his head—an Intersect he still didn't know how to properly work—find a super sneaky, wily DEA agent? It didn't matter. He had to. Sarah was in trouble.

Peyman Alahi had found her. He could hear it in her voice, the way she kept repeating that he needed to find Carina. And with the way she was adamant he stay at home tonight, it meant something bad was going down if she was asking him to actively search for the woman she'd told him time and time again was untrustworthy, a wildcard.

"Crap," he breathed, looking down at the diamond and leaving the kitchen. "Hey, Morgan, I— _eep_!"

A tall, thin intruder stood in front of him. How they'd gotten there, he had no idea. They wore a mask over their face as they stared at him.

"Uhhh, heeeey. Listen, go ahead and take whatever you want. I keep a little cash in my sock drawer. By a little I mean spare change…" Why the hell did this keep happening to him?

They stretched their hand out towards him and he looked down at the game. "Video game? Sure, yeah. I mean, it's my buddy's game but I'm sure he's up to share." They rolled their eyes, fed up with him, just like everybody was, he thought to himself. Then they pointed at the diamond. "This?" He held it up. Oh. "You want this? I can't—I can't actually give you this...because it's not mine to give."

And it was the only thing that stood between Sarah and Peyman Alahi hurting her very badly.

So he darted to the side, back towards his living room. But the intruder did a ridiculously unnecessary handspring to block the door. Shit.

He spotted Morgan's pizza plate on the table and grabbed it. Sarah had saved his ass earlier with one of these...he had to call upon his old frisbee skills to save his own ass this time. And he whipped it at them, cracking it into the side of their head.

"OW! What the _fuck_ , Chuckie?!"

"...Wait...Carina?"

She whipped the mask off. "Yeah, you prick! Ow!" She rubbed the side of her head. "The mask was so Martin wouldn't ID me. Now gimme the diamond."

Chuck glanced over his shoulder towards the hallway, down which Morgan was waiting for him. He'd have to keep waiting.

"Chuckie. The diamond. Now."

"Wait," he rushed, hurrying closer to her and lowering his voice. "Nonononono, I need your help, all right? Sarah's in trouble."

"Sarah's fine. She's very resourceful. Now the rock—?" She stretched her hand out towards him again, looking harried, frustrated. He frowned at her, holding the diamond further away from her.

"Wait, so you're just gonna cross your fingers and hope for the best instead of saving your friend?"

"Oh, come on, Chuck!" she snapped, that flirty, tongue-in-cheek, smirkish attitude of hers completely gone now that she wasn't playing her games anymore. Now that he had the upper hand... "You know...this thing of ours? This spy thing? We're _all_ in it for ourselves. It's what we do."

He got the hint. Sarah was in it for herself, too. That teasing she'd been doing, insinuating feelings and extra activities between him and Sarah… That was a game, too. And anything he might perceive about Sarah outside of the job she was doing was a lie. He got the hint loud and clear.

But she was wrong about Sarah.

"It's not what Sarah does," he said. And he realized this was the first thing he was one hundred percent sure about in the last week probably. Carina just gave him a slightly sympathetic look, like he was some kind of Boy Scout getting played. He wasn't. Not this time. And not by Sarah. He'd been listening that day in the Wienerlicious, just like he listened to everything Sarah said, every bit of info she gave him. He wasn't the first one she'd risked life and limb for, was he? He stood a bit taller. "An-And! If she would've thought that in Pakistan, then you wouldn't be alive right now to have this conversation." Carina shifted her weight, squirming a little as she looked away. "You want it?" Her bright blue eyes flew back up to meet his brown ones as he lifted the bag with the diamond between them. "Here ya go."

She snatched it from him.

"But with or without you, I'm gonna go help Sarah."

Carina rolled her eyes to the ceiling, and then she smacked the diamond back into his palm. "Just hold onto it. In case I change my mind."

His chest filled with...something. But mostly he was just grateful. And he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Duuuuuude! What's the ETA on my gaaaaaame?" Morgan called from down the hallway.

Chuck rushed over to grab his jacket. "Uhhhhhh….Buddy, I'm gonna go pick up some more pizza, kay? I'll see ya!"

He marched after Carina, who seemed like she didn't much intend to wait for him either way, rushing out into the courtyard and dashing to her car to get in the passenger's seat. But she was opening up the trunk of her car instead of getting behind the wheel and going to the hotel.

"I don't get it, Chuck," she said as he stepped up next to her, peering down at her arsenal. He felt a shiver go through him. The spy world was truly insane. "Thought you and Sarah were on the outs."

He ducked his head and frowned. "I was an entitled jerk and I made the mistake of thinking she owed me...more," he said honestly. "I guess I'm still getting used to how you guys need to lie about who you are."

"I'm feelin' like a knife fight," Carina growled almost hungrily as she snapped open another suitcase in the trunk and revealed an insane array of knives. Was she even listening to him, he wondered? She slipped a few of the knives out and stored them down the back of her pants. "You analysts don't know what it's like for us field agents. This is part of the job. We shed identities like people shed clothes." She looked up at him and bobbed her eyebrows, but he ignored the flirtation completely.

Because she didn't seem all that bothered by that, as though it was just how it was. He wondered if Sarah felt the same way about it. He wondered if she ever wanted to keep an identity, stop the shedding, be one person for longer than...well, she'd been here for three weeks or so, hadn't she?

"Try 'em on, like 'em or leave 'em, after a while, it doesn't even matter," she continued, strapping herself with more weapons.

"So you don't let anyone know who you really are?" he asked as she closed her trunk and turned to face him.

"Can't." She looked at him matter-of-factly. "Might have to leave them in five minutes or...shoot them in the head."

He saw the slight smirk on her face, and she was flirting again, teasing him, he could tell, especially with that last bit there. But he still appreciated the honesty. For once, it was without guile. And he felt...sad. "Trust me," she said, the flirtatious sparkle gone. "A spy doesn't want you to know anything about them that's real. No matter who you are."

That last parting shot before she went to get in the car felt like a barb in his chest. She'd been able to distract him earlier on in the day by pretending Sarah'd been hurt, and that meant she knew he cared about Sarah as more than just a member of the same team. _No matter who you are_. ...or no matter who Sarah was to him.

}o{

"You don't know who you're dealing with, do you?" Peyman asked as they led her down the hallway, away from Carina's room. They left Casey tied to the bed, the way Carina had left him, and with only one guy watching him. She inwardly smirked. That wouldn't last long.

"I'm not sure you're aware of who _you_ are dealing with, Peyman."

He chuckled quietly. "You remember when I said pretty girls can call me Peyman? I revoke your privilege."

"Aw, bummmmmerrrr," she mocked, strolling along as though her life wasn't in grave danger. She had no idea if Chuck was able to find Carina or not, if they were on their way over here, if Carina found her damn conscience somewhere under the years' worth of dust and grime that gathered on top of it from disuse…

But she needed to keep her head on her shoulders no matter what.

"That diamond is very important. It belongs to a friend of mine and if we don't get that diamond back, he'll be very, very cranky."

"Doesn't sound too good for you," she snarked.

"Even worse for you, sweetheart. If that diamond isn't back in my hands in the next hour, you're dead. So no matter what happens to me, I can at least have the satisfaction of watching you die."

She raised her eyebrows, feeling the steel pressed against her back all the more acutely as they stepped into the closed quarters of the elevator. "It'll be here."

The rest of the journey into the lobby was quiet, as there were other people around. And she noticed the absence of the gun at her back. But she was experienced enough in situations like this to know there was still a gun on her. Somewhere.

Peyman gave her a bit of a shove, forcing her to sit on one of the chairs in the seating area. She looked down at the floor at her feet and frowned. Alahi's men sat in the chairs around the table, suspicious bulges in their coats—guns, she knew. And he stood right behind her, trying to be intimidating, no doubt. Imposing.

She assumed he had an incredibly miniature dick what with how much he seemed to compensate.

And they sat in silence for five minutes, then ten...fifteen...twenty.

She was starting to wonder if Chuck knew where she was. She'd told him but had he listened? Had he found Carina? What if he was still out there looking? What if he'd gotten himself into trouble and she was stuck here, unable to help him? She felt bad for the way she'd snapped at him in the car, and for the extra ice she'd shot him at the Buy More when she told him he was benched.

Sarah knew that Chuck cared about her. At the very least, he'd made it clear to her that he considered her his friend. He'd failed his orders by letting Carina snag the diamond from him, and he'd done it because he thought she was hurt. She was angry with herself for being a little touched by it. When was the last time someone had been concerned about her well-being? ...Besides her mom. A month ago. But in the field? Never. The mission came first. That was how it had to be. She was expendable.

But, she thought, maybe she wasn't expendable to Chuck. He wasn't a spy. Or even an analyst like she'd persuaded Carina. He didn't understand the way all of this worked. And she wondered...Even if he did understand, would he jeopardize a mission if she was in danger? He might.

He couldn't. But maybe she was making too big of a deal out of what had happened to him. That had been Carina, one hundred percent.

God, and now she was at that pernicious woman's mercy.

Worst yet, if Chuck had found her, _he_ was at her mercy. She'd wrecked him earlier today and she'd barely lifted a finger. Though she hadn't been able to sway him from Sarah's team, had she? And that gave her a spark of satisfaction. He was smart. And he trusted her. In spite of her history with Bryce that she'd kept from him. She was being too hard on Chuck. She could keep emotions out of all of this, but he couldn't. And he shouldn't have to. That wasn't who he was. She didn't _want_ him to be that way.

None of that mattered if Carina didn't show up with the diamond soon. She'd be killed.

Another five minutes passed when she felt the air in the room change suddenly. She slowly glanced up to see Carina making her way across the lobby towards them, her usual calm and confidence plastered over her face. But holy shit, Chuck was here, too.

...Of course he was. Where else would the freaking nerd be but right here, in the thick of all of this?

"Do you have what I want?" Alahi asked when Carina didn't seem to want to talk first. Sarah swung her gaze up to Chuck.

He didn't look quite as calm as Carina did. And he quickly lifted the bag with the diamond to show it to them.

"Maybe," Carina drawled, and Chuck's eyes widened, as he quickly hid the diamond behind his back again. Apparently they hadn't come in with a plan, so that was encouraging. At best, they weren't on the same page. "Maybe I pawned it for front row tickets to Justin Timberlake."

Sarah heard the gun behind her head being cocked. Chuck's head jerked around and worry exploded over his features. She couldn't believe Carina Miller. After all these years, she still just couldn't believe her. "Why do you always have to provoke people?"

Yeah, so maybe she was sort of a hypocrite…

"Show me the diamond," Alahi said again. This time when Sarah looked up at Carina, she saw something else besides mischief and confidence. She did have a plan after all. She didn't even have to voice it.

That smirk on her face was the type of smirk she saw when there was a brawl on the horizon. Sarah was ready for it. Even with her hands cuffed together. These guys weren't shit.

Carina gave Alahi a little shake of her head. Which Chuck must've caught, because he pulled the diamond back up again for everyone to see. "I have it! I have it!" He pawed through the little velvet bag. "In the...there it is. Theeere it is. See? See that?" The diamond was pinched between his fingers, shimmering in the light.

"Come and give it to me," Alahi said.

"No."

Chuck spun to give Carina a wide-eyed look. He definitely wasn't read in on whatever Carina's plan was, and Sarah wasn't sure if that was a good or bad idea on the DEA agent's part. "No? Um. I know that I'm new to this, but I'm pretty sure that this is the part where I do what the man says," he said through clenched teeth.

Without even looking, Carina smacked Chuck under his hand and snatched the diamond out of the air. "He didn't say please," she drawled at him, before turning back to look at Alahi as though she was daring him to do something about it. "Now. If you want it so badly, try taking it away from me."

"Look around you," Alahi said, not seeming to want to play games. "Everyone in the room is with me."

Sarah'd had a feeling when they first walked into the room and she was proven right as she watched the bellhops, the concierge behind the desk, the janitor, turn to face them and step forward. There was no way they would've walked her down here with handcuffs on where everyone was milling around and not have people stare or even acknowledge. She'd figured he and his men had cleaned this lobby out, that the actual workers were either dead or locked in a room somewhere, tied and gagged.

She counted ten, including Alahi.

She and Carina had handled worse.

"What're you gonna do?" Alahi asked. "Fight us all? All by yourself?"

"She's not by herself," Sarah piped up finally, keeping her eyes on Carina's. What was the plan, though?

Carina answered it for her, speaking in pristine Swedish. Sarah wasn't entirely fluent in the language, but she knew enough to know that Carina was asking her if she'd drop the keys if she threw them to her.

Cheeky bitch.

In Polish, a language she knew the other woman spoke almost fluently, she answered, "Only if you throw it like your daddy."

Carina nodded just slightly. Without warning, Carina spun and slammed both of her fists into Chuck's chest, shoving him back and out of the way. Without missing a beat, she cracked a right hook across the man's jaw who'd been standing next to Chuck.

Knowing Alahi'd be distracted, Sarah turned and shoved the gun he'd been holding on her away, swinging a high kick up to nail him right in the face. He dropped like a ton of bricks and she spun back to catch the keys Carina tossed to her. _Ha!_

She didn't have time to unlock her cuffs as one of Alahi's men sprang towards her but she cleaned him out with a swing of both of her fists across his temple.

Sarah watched Carina get dropped and the diamond flew out of her hands. She didn't see where it ended up as she cracked her elbow into another goon's nose. But more importantly, she couldn't see Chuck anywhere.

But there was a small, round vase on the table and since she couldn't exactly get rid of the cuffs just yet, she could at least get a hold of a weapon. She grabbed it as she jumped up onto the table and leapt off the other side, bringing it down on one of their heads, freeing Carina up to take care of the bastard who was trying to bind her arms behind her back.

Sarah switched her grip on the vase that miraculously hadn't broken the first time she used it, and then she slammed it hard across the next guy's face, feeling bone crack under the power of her attack.

Good.

She heard Chuck's voice through the din and jerked her body around to scan the room for him. He was making a mad dash through the lobby, darting towards the door to the employee area, yelling in fear as he went. He had the diamond. She watched him disappear as he was chased. But before she could go after him, she came face to face with yet another asshole built like a tank. Where in the hell did they keep coming from?

She leveled him and turned to see Carina bust the toe of her boot into a guy's face, sending him staggering towards her. Sarah hit the nearby swinging lamp towards him, but he managed to duck it just in time. Which was fine. Because as he popped back up, she creamed him with the vase.

Sarah let Carina get the last word as she focused on getting her cuffs off. Chuck was running around in the guts of the hotel, being chased by someone who wouldn't hesitate to kill him to get that diamond.

Once they were off, she shoved past Carina and made a beeline for the door she saw Chuck disappear through chased by an Alahi henchman. She felt Carina on her heels. "You see the diamond?" the redhead asked.

"Chuck took it."

"What d'you mean he _took_ it?"

Sarah ignored her. If Carina didn't know by now that Chuck wasn't the type to jack an incredibly important diamond and leave his team to rot, she was an idiot. And she knew Carina Miller was _not_ an idiot.

"Chuck!" she cried out as she staggered through the maze-like hallways. "Chuck, where are you?"

"Here!"

Relief flooded through her as she followed his voice, and rushed into the mailroom. She nearly collided into Casey's back, skidding to a stop in the center of the room and looking up to see Chuck standing with his hands clasped over his mouth, his shoulders raised, eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, going to his side and putting a hand on his forearm.

"Mhm."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Casey growled threateningly. When she glanced back at him, she noticed for the first time that he still wore his handcuffs, and he'd literally carried part of the headboard with him. Jesus Christ…

"Where's my diamond?" Carina asked.

Chuck slowly lowered his hands and winced. "Uh. Well."

"Tell me it isn't in that." Casey said, gesturing towards the mail chute Chuck stood next to.

"Teechnically, no. It is not in this. Beeecause when you put things into this, they immediately shoot down into...a, um, mail room...Unless it got lodged in here, which isn't likely because they tend to make these so that doesn't, uh, happen..."

"You did what?" Carina snapped as Casey closed the distance with murder in his face.

Sarah stepped in front of Chuck and put a hand on Casey's chest. "Hey, hey. What the hell are you talking about?" She spun to face Chuck. "What's going on here?"

She turned and noticed the man who'd followed Chuck into the back was unconscious (or maybe even dead) on the ground at their feet, blood under him, and she was pretty sure Casey had shown up with perfect timing.

"Um, well?" Chuck cleared his throat. "I locked myself in here with the diamond and needed to find a way to keep him," he pointed at the prone body on the ground, "from killing me once he inevitably broke the lock and came inside. So I, uh, put the diamond in a shipping box, made a label for it, sealed it, and threatened to drop it down the mail chute when he finally busted in."

"Did you drop it?" Carina demanded.

"Casey burst into the room and knocked this guy out and it surprised me and my fingers just...opened up!" Everyone groaned. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Sarah crossed her arms at her chest and shook her head. "So where's this box going? Maybe we can head it off."

"We can go down and find it in the warehouse down below where this chute ended up," Casey said.

"I mean, I sent it to Director Graham in Langley."

She froze and slowly turned to face Chuck. "What?"

"The label. I used your director's address. Quick Internet search, copy paste, print the label, and voila." He gestured to the computer behind Casey.

"You are crazy, you know that?" the redhead snapped, leaving the room. "I can't believe this shit…" Sarah heard her say down the hallway, out of sight.

Casey shook his head and snarled a bit at Chuck, then stopped and looked out the door. "H-Hey, wait. You got the keys to these cuffs?" He rushed after Carina.

Sarah huffed in awe and turned to survey the nerd. He just looked back silently and shrugged a bit. "I have no idea what's gonna happen with...that," she gestured to the chute and he winced again. "But you did really good." She paused. "Thank you for coming for me."

"You're welcome. But I-I wouldn't'a been able to do this if Carina hadn't agreed."

Sarah raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Noted." Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. She just wanted to get home, shower, and sleep at this point. "Hey, how'd you find Carina anyway?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head. "That's a really long story...you sure you wanna hear it?"

She raised one eyebrow and pulled her chin back a bit, looking at him. "Yes. And I hope I don't regret this."

* * *

 **A/N:** I still don't know how the eff David got my pocket watch. Damn it. But reviews would be splendid. Thanks, folks! - SC


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** *DC tries on monocle and then looks in mirror….remembers he's blind without his no line trifocals* SC! Does this make my head look big? SC? SC!? *Walks off trying to swing chain on watch and crashes into wall*

HA HAAAA! - SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own anything. We're not making any money from this.

* * *

They stood in Casey's apartment, on the computer that Chuck had set-up. One more thing Chuck could add to the growing talley of what he had done for the CIA and NSA. Not that the two people on the monitor cared.

"Capturing the Nadan-I-Noor Diamond has dissolved Peyman Alahi's credibility." Beckman said. "His network has fallen apart."

Graham jumped in. "We were also able to thwart the purchase of $26 million of surface-to-air missiles the Afghani terrorist group was planning on buying." Sarah beamed at Chuck, Chuck grinned at her and then turned to Casey, who was smiling as well. Well, this was a first. Everyone was happy with him. Nice win. "No diamond, no cash, no sale. Job well done, people."

"Hey," Chuck said to his teammates, raising his hand. "High five?" Casey growled at him. "Group hug?" Casey glared. "You know what," he began, turning to Sarah, when she gave him a high-five and a smirk. He grinned at her and turned back to the monitor about to speak to Beckman and Graham when he noticed a package being delivered. His eyes bugged out. He and Sarah shared a look, he was nervous, she was grinning. He looked at Casey who seemed awfully amused at his predicament.

"You didn't..." Graham groused. Chuck grinned and shrugged. Beckman reached over to turn off the monitor, but not before Chuck swore he saw her grinning.

"Now to deal with the devil spawn," Casey growled heading outside. Sarah was chuckling at that.

The group congregated in the courtyard to say goodbye to Carina. After what had been an interesting mission, Chuck was wondering if this was the norm, saying goodbye to other agents, never knowing when, or if, you would ever see them again.

Carina stepped from around Sarah where she had been tailing, touching Sarah's arm affectionately. Spies made weird friends. "Well, this was fun."

Casey reacted first. "Yeah. Good-bye, Carina. Working with you has been... Well, let's never do this again, hmm?"

Carina smirked at Casey. "Oh, thanks, Johnny. Maybe next time you can shake it up a bit and pull the four-leaf clovers out of the rotation."

Chuck turned to Casey who was chuckling. "Casey, did you try opening the gates of Mordor?"

Carina and Sarah's mouth dropped as Casey glared at Chuck. Chuck swallowed but stood his ground. Casey stalked off. Chuck turned back to the two, smirking.

"What was that about?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide.

Chuck shrugged, "Just getting even. I'm sure I'll pay for it. You will speak fondly of me at my funeral, right?"

"You know I will," Sarah replied, her eyes sparkling. She turned to Carina and pulled her into a hug. "Well, you know, as much as I hate your methods, there's never a dull moment, right?"

"Well, if you want a dull moment, just check out your cover life."

Sarah looked over at Chuck with a smile he couldn't read. "Well, you know, we have our adventures."

"Right," Carina replied, barely stopping her eyes from rolling.

Sarah turned to leave but stopped and turned to Chuck as she walked past him. "Oh, uh, dinner tonight so we can talk?"

Talk? Oh, boy. What were they gonna talk about? Talks never went good, especially with CIA agents that he had snapped at in the Wienerlicious. "Pizza?"

"Sounds good," and she turned and left, leaving him wondering how bad she was going to yell, or tell him he had hurt her feelings, but she wouldn't because she was Agent Sarah Walker and she buried her feelings. Right?

Carina came up behind Chuck as he was lost in his thoughts of Sarah, startling Chuck. "Sure you don't want to come back to my hotel room?"

He really needed to be careful here. She was a trained agent, she might hurt him, and there was no sense in being rude to her. "Um, as... as flattered and intimidated as I am by your proposition, why me?"

"Well, you're sort of cute-ish. But, um, the real reason is...I love taking what Sarah wants."

WHAT? She was messing him again. That was it. She was trying to drive a wedge again and he was NOT falling for that, because Sarah had made it very clear they couldn't do that because it would be dangerous, and foolish. "What? What? Me? No. Sarah... No, Sarah doesn't want me. She told me."

Carina smirked. "Yeah, she probably doesn't even know it herself yet... but, um, I do." She played with his shirt collar for a moment, enjoyment on her face from watching him. "What exactly did she say to you?"

"Carina," he began, but the look on her face told him he had no real choice. "She said it would be foolish for us to pursue anything because of our situation." He said it in a way that sounded like he had won the disagreement. So why was Carina grinning? Why did she look like she knew something he didn't?

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "I never heard the words she didn't like or want you." She kissed his cheek and walked away. "Be gentle with her, Chuckles," she called out as she walked away.

Chuck stood there, gobsmacked. He had no idea what to do.

"Hey, numbnuts! We're gonna be late for work!" Casey yelled. Go to work. That's what he had to do.

}o{

He took a deep breath as he knocked on her door. This was gonna be big. She opened the door with a genuine smile, as though she was happy to see him. For a split second, it was almost like she really was his girlfriend and God, he needed to not let his mind wander down that path. She was dressed casual; blue shirt, jeans, hair down, barefoot, and she looked amazing. But none of it compared to the smile that was not only on her face, but was in her eyes. She leaned against the door and tilted her head.

"Hey," he said softly. He put the bag of napkins and utensils on top of the table just inside her door, and opened the pizza box, revealing the pizza inside. "Vegetarian with no olives. It's the only thing I know about you that's true." She looked down at the pizza and when she looked up the smile on her face intensified. "You don't like olives."

He didn't quite understand why she was silent for so long, why her blue eyes stayed on his face. At least, he didn't understand at first. But then a thought struck him and if he was right, the spy world was an even worse place than he'd ever imagined. Had no one ever bothered to learn the least little thing about her? Had no one ever cared enough for Sarah Walker, or whatever other name she went by, to learn how she liked her pizza? It seemed such a trivial thing, but such an easy thing, too. All he'd had to do was pay attention to her in the smallest way during game night, and then again during the "double date". Chuck made a decision right then and there. Agent Sarah Walker deserved someone in her life who cared about her. He cared, and he was gonna show her what it felt like to be important to another person, to have someone genuinely care enough to pay attention to the small things. Maybe the spy world was a cold place, but his world wasn't, and in at least some ways, Agent Sarah Walker had been forced into his world.

When she spoke her voice was so warm that he double down on his decision. She needed someone who didn't cause her problems because she was protecting him every single day. She was watching over him, and she didn't need a love sick puppy following her around. But he could still care about her.

"Thank you." He heard the weight in those words as she said them. "Come in."

"Thank you," he said as he entered her apartment. "Look, I'm-I'm sorry about what I said to you in the Wienerlicious. It's none of my business. I got my feelings all out of whack over what Bryce has done to me, sending me this Intersect. I-I shouldn't let my feelings affect the mission. And, um... if you and Bryce— if you had a... thing, well, that makes sense. He always got the great girls." She looked down. Did he almost make her blush? "Listen, this whole thing, the secrets, Bryce sending me the Intersect, and then you and Casey showing up, one of you who used to have a ….whatever with Bryce, and the guy that killed him, it's...it's not my world. And I don't mean that to be an excuse, I just didn't handle it well. I didn't know what to do."

She was still quiet.

"It's hard, you know? You and Casey have files on me, you know things about me, and I only find out stuff when it slips in during a meeting, or when the intel is justified, and I get why, it's just...I just wish I knew something real about you. Not because it's my right, or I 'deserve to'," he said with finger quotes earning the slightest upturn of the corner of her lip. "But because I know things about my friends, and Sarah, I'm sorry, I'm terrible as a spy. In fact, we can both just easily admit I am not one."

"Am I?" she asked softly. "Your friend."

Good grief, when was the last time this woman had a legitimate friend? When was the last time she did something for herself, for fun? "Yes, Sarah. You are, and that's why I keep trying to find out things...well, not about Bryce, that just made me act like an ass." She grinned at that. "Can't you just tell me just one true thing? Just-Just one? Like-Like, where did you grow up?"

She reached out and took his hands. He figured it was to keep him from spiraling. "Chuck, it's not safe for you to know that. I know you could flash on it, at least I think you might be able to, but the more you know about me, the more danger you could be in."

Chuck nodded and blew out a breath. "Ok, and I get it, I get it— if that's too much, then I'm gonna assume asking about your name is out of the question. Like what's your real name?"

"It's been so long…" She looked away. "I have a legal identity, which is Sarah Walker. That's how the CIA pays me."

Chuck shook his head, an amused smile on his face. "Nicely played." She gave a slight head bow. "Okay, last thing I'm gonna ask. What's your middle name? Can't you just tell me your middle name?" She was quiet for a long enough time, just looking at him. He got the message. Chuck nodded, and pulled his hands out of hers. He stood. "I'm going to. . I'll go get the napkins."

Before he could move, she spoke in a whisper, looking down. "It's Lisa." She looked up at him. "My middle name is Lisa."

He grinned. "Yeah?" She nodded. "Okay, okay. I'm going to get the…" He stopped and came back. "Thank you. I'll take it to my grave."

She stared at him. "You better," she said softly but intensely. His eyes got wide and she burst out laughing. She fell over on the bed laughing.

Chuck turned and walked away. "I know your biggest secret. Agent Sarah Walker is a dork." She laughed even louder.

}o{

Most of the pizza was gone, the room silent as they sat cross-legged on the end of her bed. Well, she sat cross-legged on the end of her bed. Chuck's feet were planted firmly on the floor. She wondered idly if he'd even be able to fold his insanely long legs up like this without getting them all tangled up and falling off of the bed altogether. She let herself indulge on that image for a moment, only because she'd let herself indulge on other things tonight already. Like revealing...things to him that could potentially come back to haunt her.

Not that she thought Chuck knowing her middle name would cause her genuine harm. He meant it when he said he'd take it to his grave. She knew he meant it. And he'd keep his word. Chuck kept his word...unless someone asked him to stay in the car.

But the act of telling him, of giving him something like that, would he take it to mean something she didn't want him to think? She hoped not.

She didn't know how his brain worked yet. He was hard to pin down, the way he thought. His brain was complicated, complex, brilliant...and maybe that was why the Intersect had fit into it so well. Maybe that was why it was...working. Was it working? She still didn't entirely understand the physics of the Intersect...the biology of it. How did they get it _in_ his head? How did flashing images trigger it? It was all well out of her range of expertise.

And somehow, they put every scrap of intelligence into the Intersect and that fit inside of that brain of his. One human brain with all of their secrets. In a sense, Bryce had made Chuck the one person in the world with the highest level of clearance, at least in so far as what he knew, what he had in his head, what he could access.

It blew her mind to think about. It was unfathomable. How could a human brain, as intricately complex as it was, manage to store this much information? There were people who couldn't pass a simple history exam, and here sat Chuck Bartowski beside her, sipping soda from a little plastic cup, staring at the TV screen with a little crooked smile on his face as he watched whatever it was she'd inadvertently put on and ended up muting anyway...Chuck Bartowski had intelligence Director Graham and General Beckman probably didn't even have. And they had clearance above even the president.

This was truly bizarre. She had a million questions, and she knew she could ask them one after the other, twenty-four seven, for the rest of her life, and still never get to all of them. So instead, she asked one she knew he could tell her, a question that had kept her up at night after Casey had revealed everything he knew about the Intersect to her and to Chuck.

"H-Hey, Chuck…?"

He turned from where he was staring at the TV. "Yeah?"

"What's it like?"

Chuck blinked at her and tilted his head in question. Then he nodded and swallowed hard. "Well, uh...I got picked on a lot as a kid, through middle, even into high school. Had my comic books thrown in a few toilets. But all in all, can't complain."

Sarah rolled her eyes at the cheeky smirk on his face, his teeth showing as it widened into a grin. He apparently thought he was funny, or cute, or both. And damn it, he wasn't wrong.

"Oh, you didn't mean what's it like being a nerd? Sorry. My bad."

"You're an idiot," she murmured, bumping him with her shoulder as he chuckled, unable to keep the mirth from her face. "I meant the Intersect. What does it...feel like? Do you...feel anything?"

"Do I feel any different than I did before?" He shrugged. "I mean, of course. It's crazy, you know? Because before, I felt...I dunno, my brain has always just worked...differently, anyway. I don't know how to explain it. But the way I think about things, the way stuff seems to just come to me. Like, uh, for instance...at-at Stanford, when I was in physics and we had to go solve an equation on the board or something, it seemed so easy." Chuck ducked his head and cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed suddenly. "Sorry, I know I sound like I'm tooting my own horn. I'm not, seriously, it's just...the truth."

"No, I get it." She shook her head reassuringly. "You were one of those kids that didn't have to really study because you were a genius. A prodigy." She winked a bit and was pleased by the light blush on his cheeks.

"I wouldn't go _that_ far, Sarah," he groused. "I'm no Mozart."

"You sure? You ever try to write a sonata?"

He laughed and she was even more pleased by that. "Stop," he chuckled. "I don't know how to explain it better than that. But...I think I was always kind of different anyway. But after the Intersect, things just seem...clearer, but murkier...all at the same time." He scoffed. "I know that makes absolutely no sense. But it's the only way I know how to describe what the Intersect is...doing."

"Clearer but murkier? Like...your vision?"

"No, not that exactly. I'm not sure it has affected my vision, like...radioactive spider bite status. Nothin' that crazy or comic book-y."

"I dunno, this seems pretty crazy and comic book-y." She raised an eyebrow.

"Uh. Good point. But it's more, um, more understanding than seeing. Seeing things for what they are. Getting down to the root of it. Not problem solving exactly. Not like solving an equation. It's more like I'm figuring things out faster, easier. Figuring...people out. Ideas." He seemed frustrated as he ran a hand through his curls, but she was too caught up in what he'd just said to notice.

 _Seeing things for what they are…_ Could he see her like that? Did he see her for what she really was? A cold-blooded killer? Did he see past the reassuring looks and kind words she gave him, where the lying, manipulative, hard-souled spy lurked?

"It's weird," he continued. "But it's almost like I can...see how things connect. Not to sound too Disney, but the circle of life. I feel the push and pull between ideas and people, sometimes without even realizing that's what's happening, I'm starting to think. Does that make sense? Like if real life were a word problem on a physics exam, I've got the formulas to figure it out right here. If I can just...find all the pieces." He tapped his temple and gave her a closed-mouth smile.

"I don't understand how it could even be remotely possible, but I do understand what you're saying. This is so crazy." She raised her eyebrows and looked away, uncurling her legs and dangling them over the edge of the bed, letting out a huff in disbelief.

"Oh, trust me. I know. I wake up some mornings and sort of...forget it's there for a hot second. And then I feel the heaviness of it. In there." He poked his forehead. "And I'm like, 'Oh, that's right, I'm fucked.'"

She couldn't help the quiet giggle at the way he'd almost chirped that last bit. And the way he smiled at her seemed almost unfair, as though he was proud of the reaction he'd gotten from her.

"Wait," she said, as something occurred to her. "Heaviness? Can you feel it in your head? Like...weight?"

"Sometimes. It feels...heavier after I've flashed. Like, um...have you ever had a really bad cold or something, and your sinuses feel like someone's pumped 'em full of liquid? Sorry, that's gross," he said when she made a face, "but that's the only way I can describe it. Like my head is just...super full and heavy."

"I see." She nodded, biting her lip. And then she asked the real question, the one she'd wanted to ask since the beginning, when he first did the flash thing in front of her and she knew that was what was happening. "Does it...hurt? When you flash?" She bit her tongue to keep from continuing, telling him she saw him wincing, his brow furrowed, almost like there was pain there. She didn't want to embarrass him really, or reveal how closely she watched him sometimes because she was concerned about his well-being. She'd already told him her middle name and he didn't need more reason to think...those things.

"Yes. Sometimes not as bad, sometimes...bad. It's...a lot, I think. You know? A lot of stress, maybe. It's more like...pressure." Then he sighed and shook his head. "Nah, that isn't even true all the time. Sometimes it just hurts. That morning after I first opened the email and had this shit pumped into my head, I felt like someone had sunk a cleaver right into my head like _shhhink_!" He mimicked it with his hand as the cleaver, thumping it against the center of his forehead.

"Jesus," she breathed, pushing her hands through her hair. She'd been afraid that might be the case. That on top of the emotional toll of lying to the people he loved, the mental strain of knowing he was in constant danger, he also had to deal with physical repercussions from Bryce's little _gift_. "Does it last long?"

"No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "And I can usually sleep it off."

When he glanced over at her, she smiled a little and nodded. "What-What about when you flash?" He furrowed his brow at her. "What do you see? What do you feel?" She sniffed and shook her head. "Sorry, I know I'm prying, but it's all just so mind-boggling, and I always want to try to...understand stuff."

That made him smile, and she didn't know why. "Me, too. Casey's in for it, huh? Two curious minds he's having to contend with."

Sarah snorted. "Let's not tell him and let him figure it out on his own, instead."

Chuck laughed. "Agreed. ...When I flash, it's kind of like...um...I don't know how old you are, really, I assume around my age, give or take a few years…" She wasn't telling him that, and it didn't seem like he was prying for that information anyway, thankfully. "But do you remember how televisions used to just do the static thingy on the screen before you turned on Nintendo, or fixed the antenna?"

"Uh, not the Nintendo thing, but the antenna thing, sure. Static."

"Yeah! Well, it...it's like that, sandwiched by flashes of images I don't really understand, like of nature and random objects or places, then it stops on something from...uh, I assume files? Government files? I'll, um, give you an example. When I flashed on Carina, I saw a slew of nonsensical images flash, and then it stopped on Carina's dossier from the DEA. Then more images, then surveillance footage with her in it, et cetera." Chuck shrugged. "I-I don't know if I'm the one sticking it all together or if it's the Intersect. But there you are. And how it feels? Well, it makes the inside of my skull feel like someone's tickling it. And then there's almost, like, a zap or something here, between my eyes." He poked his finger there. "Like, you know when you hit your elbow on something in that one specific spot and the tingles shoot through your arm and it doesn't _hurt_ exactly, but it's insanely uncomfortable?"

"Funny bone?" she asked.

"Yeah. That. But in my head." She must've made a face because he snorted and nodded, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah, it isn't pleasant exactly. I don't know. I guess then the images and static happens, and everything melds, and then I-I just...know stuff. Then the headache, depending on how intense the flash is."

Sarah was quiet for a few moments, finding herself wondering if he'd gotten a headache when he'd flashed on her. That made her feel uneasy. She didn't exactly know why. "I can't imagine it. Any of it."

"I wouldn't be able to, either, if it weren't literally happening to me." He sighed heavily and pushed his hands through his hair. "Did you really not get any kind of...er, briefing on this stuff from your boss? From the director, I mean?"

Sarah paused and nibbled on the inside of her cheek, not looking at him. "No. He just told me you had important intel in your head. I knew it was some sort of...strange...program you'd somehow downloaded into your brain, but most of what Casey told me? I never got any of that information."

"Why did he get it and you didn't? That seems...stupid."

She raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"I-I mean, stupid of him. Of Graham. Of whoever it was who made the decision not to tell you what you were dealing with when you came here. It's honestly impressive you were able to do everything you've done so far with such a small amount of information." He shook his head. "I see why this is all so important, why I'm important now—or I guess why the stuff in my head is so important…" She refrained from speaking up and telling him he was more than just the stuff in his brain, because he didn't seem like he was in a place where he might receive that the right way. "And it makes sense that they sent you over everyone else in the CIA. You are pretty amazing at this."

Sarah smiled a little down at her lap, but her chest was aching. She was one of the best, she knew. And she also knew he meant the compliment sincerely. But the problem was that being an amazing CIA agent meant leaving a long trail of blood behind you—at least, it did for her. And no matter what she did, she wouldn't be able to wash her hands clean of any of it. Chuck couldn't understand that. To him, she was the agent keeping him safe, keeping his family safe.

"Thanks, Chuck. I take my job seriously."

"Yeah, you do." He shrugged. "But not Casey levels of serious and I appreciate that about you too."

That made her laugh when she hadn't really been in much of a laughing mood. And that was something Chuck was amazing at.

"Hey, I-I'm sorry if I'm still making your job hard. That thing yesterday with losing the diamond to Carina. Letting her manipulate me. Even if I didn't fall for it on the beach, I shouldn't have let my guard down."

"You got it back, Chuck. You singlehandedly got her to bring it back." He made a face at that. "What?" she asked dubiously.

"She actually slipped it into Morgan's bag when he met her at her hotel. I found it in his bag back home when I was looking for a game we were going to play to cheer him up since she...well, I'm gonna say dumped him, but there wasn't anything to begin with so technically…" He winced.

Sarah sighed and dropped her head in her hands. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let her mess with him like that. Is he okay?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "He'll be all right. I've got him on a steady diet of video games and grape soda." She made a grossed out face. "I know. I know, but it works." He shrugged.

Snorting softly, she shook her head. "I can't believe you got her to come back."

"I can." He shrugged. "It really wasn't that hard. She wanted to, deep down. I could tell. I don't know what the dynamic is in your relationship with her, because it's super confusing if I'm being honest, but I do know that she cares. Sincerely. About you."

She couldn't help but smile slowly at him. The fact that he noticed Carina cared, the fact that he was able to use that to get the wily DEA agent to help him rescue her from Peyman Alahi's machinations, meant that he cared. And she'd already known that. There was a whole flurry of feelings she had about that, both negative and positive. But at the moment, it felt...nice.

"I know she does. And I couldn't explain our relationship if I tried, so…"

"Don't try." He chuckled, holding his hands up. "But uh...I should probably head home, huh? We've both got early shifts."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah. Thank you for the pizza. And...um, for being honest. About all the things I asked." And for the apology, the sincere and honest way he explained his actions, everything he said about Bryce and about her. And for calling her his friend. It was such a silly little thing, stupidly sappy, and yet it meant more than she was willing to admit.

So instead, she walked him to the door of her room.

He'd snagged all of the trash along the way, and he spun with the pizza box and plates, cups, bottle, facing her with a serious look on his face. "I'll see ya tomorrow?"

"Count on it."

"Cooool," he drawled, backing down the hallway and grinning. As he spun on his heel again and walked to the elevator, she watched him closely, the smile on her face dimming.

She silently cursed herself for wanting to go with him.

}o{

"Things good with Sarah again?"

"Jesus Chr—Oh my God, Morgan."

He hadn't expected his best friend to be sitting in the dark in his room when he got home around eleven thirty, having stayed with Sarah a lot longer than he'd thought he would. It had just been too nice for him to want to leave, and she hadn't seemed to want him to go at any point, either.

Morgan looked like Chernabog from Disney's Fantasia when the sun starts to rise as Chuck turned the bedside lamp on. "Sorry, dude. I just...I'm feelin' punk. Thought I'd stick around here and wait for ya to come back instead of going home. Too many memories of Carina there."

Chuck frowned. "Did she go to your house?"

"No, dude. Of course not. But that's where I put her number that she scrawled in that neat, cursive handwriting…'Carina' written above it…" He waved his hand through the air and sighed dreamily. "It's by my bed. And it's just...so hard to look at now."

"You could just...throw it away."

"What?! Throw it away? And erase the memory of the only _stupidly hot_ woman who ever showed an ounce of interest towards me? God, Chuck. You are operating on next level privilege now that you've got a hot girlfriend. Think a guy's just gonna throw away the phone number of a girl like that. Pfft." He shook his head.

"Uhhhhh...okay. Well, you can leave then. That's fine. I mean, honestly, dude, I'm really beat."

He regretted saying that the second Morgan got a certain look on his face. "Beat, huh? Tired? Did you and Sarah...make up?"

"Get that out of your head immediately before I freaking smack you. I'm not talking to you about any part of...that side of my relationship, whether it's happening or not. It's just been a really long day, okay?"

"Oh. Well, you never answered my question. I've been so focused on this Carina stuff, but I heard through the grapevine that you and Sarah had a fight."

Chuck rolled his eyes and plopped down on his bed, taking his shoes off. "Did that grapevine happen to have a Nerd Herd shirt on and has been trying to grow a mustache since he was fourteen years old?"

"His name starts with an L and ends with an -ester? Yep."

"Damn it." Chuck laid back against his pillows and groaned. "It wasn't a fight. He's exaggerating. I slipped up, she was kind of upset about it, I apologized, and now we're totally fine. It was a non-issue."

It wasn't really a non-issue, but Sarah seemed okay tonight. She asked him about the Intersect, about his flashes, and she'd listened more intently than anyone had ever listened to him before, about anything. Though, she really was excellent at listening. She made him feel comfortable with being candid, like he could tell her his feelings about the missions or other things bothering him and she wouldn't scream and run, or judge him.

And in spite of knowing the truth now about her prior relationship with Bryce, as much as that made his chest ache, as much as it made him feel crazy and even a little jealous—or more than a little jealous—none of the negative emotions that came with the revelation were directed at her. And he thought he'd done an all right job at convincing her of that much. At least.

"Well, that's good, man. At least one of us isn't a total loser." Morgan stopped and turned to face him better where he sat on his chair. "That's you. You're the one who isn't a total loser. In case I wasn't clear."

"I got ya buddy." He chuckled. "You aren't either. There are plenty of fish in the sea, buddy. Right? You'll find someone else who appreciates you enough to stick around."

"Will I, Chuck? Will I? What if that leggy redhead bombshell took my heart with her? I'll never find anyone like her again."

"Maybe you don't want to," Chuck muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

"I, uh, I said...Maybe we can watch _Xanadu_."

"Oh. Dude. Random. But sure, if you want. I just don't wanna go home, ya know?"

Chuck was tired, but he didn't feel so bad at the moment. He knew Agent Walker's middle name. Lisa… _Lisa_. His insides felt warm. She'd told him something, and maybe it wasn't a lot. But he didn't need a lot. He didn't need _everything_. And he wouldn't ask for more than she was comfortable giving him, because he was afraid she'd pull away for good if he did. But things had felt comfortable tonight, their meal eaten in companionable quiet, with a few spells of chatter about the mission, what would happen to Alahi and his diamond, et cetera.

He felt pretty good.

So he turned on Xanadu and let Morgan drape himself over the other side of his bed, and he fell asleep feeling like maybe this whole thing wasn't as bad as it could've been.

* * *

 **A/N:** DC here: CANON JUST CHANGED! (High fives SC)

I accept this high five. Please review! Thanks, friends! - SC


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: DC here (minus monocle, with glasses): We changed canon. We changed canon. Oh, it's about to get SC/DC up in here! Why are you looking at me that way, SC? Can we change one more little thing, and I dare I say get, just a hair, just a little bit….fluffy? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaasssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeee? (If you haven't guessed, I REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter. REALLY!)

Feel free to blame me for Lack of Fluff. I'm fine with it. It isn't like I'm the author of a little story called _Chuck Versus the Dive_ or anything. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
\- SC

Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck and all we get from it is the joy that fills our cold dead hearts.

* * *

She found herself humming that morning as she got ready for work. She stopped as she fixed her pigtails. Why was she humming? She's spent so much time in the CIA and she had never hummed during an assignment, unless the role called for it. Why was she humming? She looked in the mirror, saw the smiling face looking back at her, and shrugged. So she was happy, was that a crime? Was being a CIA agent and also being happy a crime? She realized she was humming "Soul Provider"….Well, that was disconcerting. She headed out the door, and to her car. She pulled out of the parking lot and drove leisurely to the Wienerlicious….well, she considered 80 leisurely.

"Hi, Scooter," she chirped as she walked in, not only on time, for once, but early. Scooter did a double take. "I had an idea I wanted to run past you." Scooter took his glasses off and cleaned them. "We have a lot of unhealthy things here, and I'm not saying that as a bad thing, but would it hurt if maybe we sold lemonade, or something, to drink?"

"We have a diet cola," Scooter retorted.

She stared at him and he winced. "What if I make some lemonade, and see how it goes?"

Scooter shook his head like he couldn't believe it. "O—okay...I guess you'll want to take some to Chuckie over at the Buy More to try."

"That's an amazing idea," Sarah said, grinning. "But please, it's Chuck."

"Sarah, Chuck and I have known each other—"

"Scooter," she said with a very low voice. She saw him glup. "It's. Chuck." Scooter nodded and fled. Sarah went to the back of the store and began to make the lemonade. Scooter came in a few times for different items, and started to say something each time. He never did, and when he left he always looked...amazed.

The third time he came he, he paused by the door. "Sarah, is that Soul Provider you're humming?" She turned to him slowly. "Because it is an amazing rendition if it is," he quickly added. She smiled sweetly at him and went back to the lemonade. After a minute she stopped. What she was doing? Why was she smiling so much? Why was she so happy? What had made this happen? She knew the answer. It was Chuck. He was just so much...fun. He was her friend. When was the last time she had legitimately had a friend? Had she ever? Well, she did now, and she got to hang out with him, and she knew she had to protect him, and she would. She would even if he wasn't her friend but the fact he was… She nodded, happy with where things were. Now, she was going to bring him some lemonade, and she hoped he liked it. She walked past Scooter and headed out the door to the Buy More.

As she walked in she saw Chuck and Morgan in talks about something. It appeared to be quite important to the bearded guy.

"Feel me?" Morgan said to Chuck.

"Hey, nothing but feeling you," Chuck replied fist bumping him. If Sarah and Chuck were really dating, she might have to sit Chuck down and have a long talk about some of the phrases the two used around each other. She grinned… No, she wouldn't. She liked them just the way they were, even if the term heterosexual life partners did make her cringe at times. She took a drink of her lemonade. Damn, it was good. Morgan saw her and started toward her, looking a little embarrassed.

"Hey, Sarah." He sounded...regretful. "The other night, I was a little….I was out of line, and I'm sorry."

Sarah was taken aback. "It's fine. Hey, you know, I appreciate you. You watch out for him. Not all of us have a friend like that."

"Really? I thought Carina would be that person for you?"

Sarah shook her head sadly. "No. Carina looks out for herself. I know she's my friend, Morgan, but be careful. I don't know if she deserves you."

Morgan beamed at her. "Good, good, good. Listen, 'An evening with Morgan' will begin at 7:00 sharp." He looked over at Chuck, leaned in, put his hand over his mouth so Chuck couldn't hear, and whispered. "But if you're a little late it's okay." She gave a quick head nod and grinned. He winked, and began to back away. "Bring your A-game, like the other night." He looked up at Chuck and pointed both his pointer fingers at him. "Love ya, pal." Chuck pointed back at him.

She walked over, an amused grin on her face. She sat the drink down in front of him. He took a sip, and raised his eyebrows, a look of appreciation on his face. "So, Chuck… 'An Evening of Morgan'?"

Chuck leaned forward. "Okay, so here's the thing. He's my best friend, and I haven't really gotten to spend any time with him or Ellie this week, and so he really wanted the whole bunch of us to hang out tonight."

Sarah was trying to process everything. "For 'An Evening of Morgan'? Will I be required to play video games? Will I be required to play nerd trivia? What about action figures? I'm not playing with action figures."

Chuck was grinning. "What happened to the greater good, Sarah?"

She smirked at him. "The greater good can kiss my ass when it comes to playing with action figures with Morgan."

She heard Casey behind her. "I thought being stationed in the Khyber Pass for six months was brutal." Sarah grinned and took another drink. Damn, that was good lemonade.

"If you're so sad about not being included, Casey, you can just say so," Chuck replied. Sarah watched Chuck. He was beginning to fire back at Casey and hold his own. She found she liked that. She found herself rooting for Chuck...her grin grew.

"Dinner with you and Morgan?" Casey asked as if he were hearing things. "I'd rather Afghani Warlords bleed me from my liver."

Sarah stared at Casey as he walked away. Chuck turned to her. "He's a happy person." She had no response except to drink her lemonade and raise her eyebrows in agreement. She was grinning so hard. His little jokes...it made it all so much more bearable. "I appreciate that about him—" Sarah was about to crack up. "And he works hard, so…"

"I have to go back, enjoy your lemonade." She started to leave when he called out.

"Sarah, when did the Wienerlicious start making lemonade?"

She bounced a shoulder grinning. "Since I started making it."

"Wha—?" He quickly came from around the Nerd Herd desk and walked her to the door. "Is it a secret CIA recipe?" His voice was low so no one could hear.

"No, Chuck, it's mine."

He gently took her wrist in his hand, and she turned to him. "Well thank you for sharing it with me, Sarah." He was beaming and it was making things in her flip, flop, and just feel. "Have a great day at work and I'll see you tonight." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned back toward the Nerd Herd desk. She raised her drink, turned, and walked out, grinning and sipping on her lemonade. It was gonna be a good day.

}o{

She found herself in Chinatown, not next to her fake boyfriend, but next to Morgan. He had his arms around both of their shoulders and was being the tour guide. She should have expected that. It was called, "An Evening with Morgan."

"So, at what point do the video games break out, because I'm sure that's on the menu." Sarah had said it with a grin, but the look on Chuck's face was one of horror. He was running his hand across his neck mouthing "NO, NO!" "Did I say something wrong?"

Morgan looked at her with...sympathy? Why would Morgan have sympathy for her? "Sarah, I think you're great, and we both obviously think Chuck's great, but I fear he's spent too much time with Jeff and Lester at the Buy More."

An amused look covered her face. "Well, I mean it did take him over a day to call me back."

"THANK YOU!" Morgan said, hands up in the air.

Chuck had a grin on his face. "Et tu, Sarah?" Sarah shrugged. "Fine, I was trying so hard to keep you from this, but you know what, you turned on me, so I have no choice. It is with great regret that I unleash...the Morgan...Buddy, do your thing."

Morgan gave Chuck a look. "How is it wrong to let my best friend's girl in on our conversations?"

"Yeah, Chuck, don't you trust me with your conversations?" Sarah was grinning at Chuck so hard her face hurt, but she didn't care, she was having a blast. Chuck had a strange look on his face, one part amusement, one part, "please dear God, don't let my best friend scare off my girlfriend." He was really getting into his role. Morgan continued on, unaware of his friend's crisis.

"You know how Grand Theft Auto III change the video game industry?" he began. Sarah tried to give a look that she understood. "Wait...you don't know Grand Theft Auto III?"

"Is that a worse charge than Grand Theft Auto?" Chuck burst into laughter, earning a glare from Morgan and confusion from Sarah. "How do criminal charges change the video game industry?"

"Grand Theft Auto III is a video game," Chuck explained between bouts of laughter. "Grand Theft Auto and Grand Theft Auto II were also video games, but they were nothing like Grand Theft Auto III."

"Okaaaaay," Sarah replied, still confused.

"Let me," Morgan said. Chuck held his hand out like, "Be my guest." Morgan turned to Sarah. "So Grand Theft Auto III gave us the concept of an open world. You can do whatever you want, but each of your actions affect the world around you."

"Like real life," Sarah said, starting to grasp the concept. "So instead of being told what to do, you have all the choices."

"Right," Morgan replied. "But, you still have things you have to do to progress the story, but you can do them when you want to."

"Okay, but why the name Grand Theft Auto?"

"Because you're a criminal," Morgan said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was in this moment, that Sarah realized how truly different her life was from these two. She had been raised as a criminal, and these two guys had video games to let them "experience" the life. But video games were nothing like real life, no matter how "open world" the game was. She saw the look on Chuck's face and immediately knew he was thinking about how she was a law enforcement officer. She knew the right answer and gave it.

"I mean that's different," Sarah replied. She caught Chuck's eyes. They were full of questions, questions he didn't even know how they would affect her. "But what does that have to do with why Chuck didn't want me to ask about video games?"

"Ah, because I see the future and stick in the mud over here says I'm wrong," Morgan replied, a look of satisfaction on his face. Sarah wasn't sure why, he hadn't really proved anything yet. "So there's this game called Red Dead Revolver, it's a third person shooter, you go around as a gunfighter. You should play it."

Sarah faked a shudder. "No, I don't like guns." Morgan didn't see Chuck look away, his lips twitching. It took all her training not to grin.

"That's understandable," Morgan replied. Sarah nearly burst out laughing, but she held it together. "I think they could do the same thing with that game."

"Morgan, there's only so many gunfighters," Chuck countered.

"Ah, but what if they do the same thing and make him an outlaw? Think about it, recreating some of those feels that a western gives you. Riding on your horse, over the open prairie?"

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," Sarah added.

Morgan spun towards her, excited. Sarah was surprised, and kept herself from hurting him. "But that's the thing, the same studio makes both games."

"Well that makes a lot of sense." Chuck's faced morphed to "really?" She shrugged. "What? He makes good points. It may not happen, but to dismiss it….well, I try to listen to good ideas from all people, not just those that most affect my life." The look Chuck gave her was one of gratefulness on two levels. She was trying with Morgan, and that meant everything to him, but it also told him she listened to him. Regardless of what her superiors thought. It was time to move this along before Chuck started asking questions she couldn't answer. Not just because Morgan was around but because she didn't know the answer herself. "So what then is, "An Evening with Morgan'?"

When he spoke, it was with an….importance. It was like he was letting her into a secret society. She suspected that this society consisted of, at best, four people before she came along; Chuck, Morgan, Ellie, and Devon. "'An Evening with Morgan,' will consist of three acts. Act one, dinner."

She decided to go with it and have fun. It wasn't hard to do. She found herself smiling again. "What are we having?"

As he spoke, he gesticulated with his hands and she grinned at his enthusiasm. "A little delicacy called Sizzling Shrimp." Chuck looked away, amusement on his face. "That's right. That's right." Morgan began to poke her belly as he talked. She had killed men for less, but for some reason, she found this….adorable. "We're going to pack our bellies so full of shrimp you're going to make a seal jealous."

She couldn't help but have fun. "Wow! Sounds like quite a night." The grin on her face was real. This wasn't a cover. She was out with her friend and his best friend, and it was a "mission." If her early years at the CIA had been like this, she probably would have stuck around until they ran her off.

Morgan continued. "Oh, and that's just the beginning. Dinner will be followed by a screening over at Chuck's of the greatest kung fu film ever made." He paused and she noticed Chuck's face change and they both spoke together, solemnly. "Enter the Dragon."

Chuck began to do a bad kung fu imitation and flail his arms about. "Prepare to die, my bearded friend." The two began to slap fight while doing some bad kung fu moves yelling things like, "bring it on", and "come on", at each other. Sarah laughed at the two. They were both complete nerds, doing nothing but having fun, and it was just so pure. Part of her realized, this was why she stayed in the CIA as long as she did, because people deserved to have these moments. These regular moments of spontaneity and silliness that were just pure and wholesome.

The fighting finally stopped after Chuck had slapped Morgan in the head one too many times. "What are you doing?" Morgan asked. Sarah continued to laugh.

"Okay, and the third act can only be found here in Chinatown." Morgan straightened his jacket. "There he is. Be cool."

Chuck grabbed Morgan and spun him around. Sarah noticed the guy in the beanie and backpack, assessed Chuck's reaction, and closed her eyes at what she thought she was seeing. She was concerned, Morgan had no known drug issues in his dossier. Chuck had a look on his face that scared Sarah. "Hey, wait a minute. I thought you were off this stuff, buddy."

Morgan looked a little indignant. "Yeah? Well, I'm sorry, Chuck, all right? Daddy needs his fix, you know?" Morgan looked over at the guy and he gave Morgan a head nod. This was not good. Someone this close to Chuck with a drug problem. Sarah started running through protocols in her head. Chuck couldn't live without Morgan. She was going to have to do something, but she had no idea what.

"Dude." Sarah was heart broken. He sounded so scared for his friend. "You know how I feel about fireworks!" Wait, WHAT? Fireworks. Sarah started to smile. These two...they were just…

"You know what?" Morgan seemed quite exasperated with Chuck. "To defeat fear, one must embrace fear."

"I'd rather embrace my limbs. Specifically, all of them." Okay, this was amazing but…

She grabbed Chuck's arm. "Hey, can I talk to you just a sec?" Chuck looked at Morgan. She turned toward Morgan. "No buying any until I talk to him, okay?"

"Deal."

She pulled Chuck out of Morgan's hearing range. "Okay, first." She started to laugh. She couldn't get control of herself and laughed harder. Chuck stood there confused until it dawned on him.

"You thought…" he pointed over his shoulders toward Morgan and the dealer. "That Morgan was gonna buy…. Morgan?! You know he gets a hangover from too many grape sodas, right?"

"Besides Jeff, is there anything anyone else at the Buy More does that I should know about?" Her eyes were dancing with laughter, and his jaw was trembling.

He leaned in. "I might have a pirated tape of 10." Sarah stared at him. "Bo Derek?" She continued to stare at him. He shrugged. "Never mind. I can't do the fireworks, Sarah, I can't. They freak me out."

"No, I get it, I just have to seem like i'm trying for him because I kinda need your best friend to approve of the cover." Chuck grinned. "Okay, be gentle with him." He nodded. Sarah studied him a second. "I mean Bo Derek was okay in that movie, but it wasn't that great." With that she walked back toward Morgan. Chuck followed after a second, a little shaken.

"Well?" Morgan asked.

"No fireworks. No sale." Chuck slung his arm around Morgan, leading him away from the fireworks, and put his other arm around Sarah.

"Well, can I say something? This evening gets an asterisk, okay? We've still got our shrimp on, though." He held up his hand and Sarah high-fived him. "And thank you for fighting for me." Chuck grinned at Sarah. They approached the Bamboo Dragon. There was a big sign on the door, Closed for Private Party. "No, no, no, no. You got to be kidding me. They can't be closed. 'An Evening with Morgan' has to at least include sizzling shrimp."

Sarah felt sorry for the bearded man. "Morgan, it's okay. We'll do it another time."

She had to give him credit, he just refused to quit. "No, no. I got this. I got this. Lucky for us, I got connections."

Morgan took off around the corner and they followed. "Well," Chuck began. "Got to give him points for effort."

Morgan went to the stairs and grabbed a key from underneath. "My friend Juan, he's a dishwasher. Leaves his keys for me in case of emergencies."

They followed him inside. "Hey, we got to make this quick," Chuck reminded Morgan. "Ellie's waiting for us."

As they walked through the kitchen, Morgan seemed like he was in heaven. "You hear that sizzle?" He began to move his hands like he was conducting an orchestra. "Like the sound of angels' laughter. Wait here." He went off to talk to someone, leaving Sarah and Chuck behind.

"He does not give up, does he?" Sarah asked, smiling. This was fun. This was what she needed, a night off. She turned to Chuck, and noticed his mouth was open like he was beginning to answer, but she saw his face. God, that looked horrible….oh no...Oh no. He was flashing.

He shook his head. "That waitress. She's Mei-Ling Cho, Chinese Intelligence. Never stepped foot on US soil before."

Morgan picked that exact moment to walk up. "Sizzling shrimp, anyone?"

"My God!" Sarah replied still trying to process everything Chuck had just told her.

"Well, you can just call me Morgan, Sarah, but I appreciate the enthusiasm." Morgan gave her a wink. Damn it! She had been looking forward to this. A low key night, but it was ruined, and more importantly, she began to wonder, was Chuck ever going to be able just to have a normal night without flashing? She had to get this thing out of him...after she dealt with Mei-Ling Cho.

}o{

"Hey, I'll be right back, I need to talk to Casey real quick." Chuck and Sarah headed toward the door, earning them a look from Ellie.

"Really? You two can't be apart for a minute?"

Sarah turned toward Ellie. This was the part of the job she hated. Ellie only wanted what was best for her brother, and she thought Sarah was it. It didn't take a CIA spy to see how happy Ellie was with Chuck dating Sarah. One day, when she left, it was going to hurt Ellie. She prayed that whatever happened, Chuck didn't catch the brunt of it. She prayed that Ellie didn't think that the damage his ex had done to him was what broke them up. She decided right then and there she needed to come up with the perfect breakup story that put all the blame on her. She had ideas, but she needed to make Chuck blameless. If Ellie had to hate anyone, she'd prefer ot be her.

"You know how Casey is, with all his growling," Sarah said to Ellie. Ellie grinned. "If I'm with Chuck, Casey is less….Casey."

"Need me to go, buddy? You know Casey and I have a certain...bond."

Chuck looked at his buddy. "You wanna come? We're gonna talk about certain sale strategies for the new—"

"You know what?" Morgan said, waving his hand. "You and Sarah won't get a lot of alone time tonight."

"We'll be with Casey, Morgan," Chuck replied.

Morgan shook his head. "There's a lot of real estate between the two apartments."

"Come on, Chuck, we've got a long hike ahead of us," Sarah said, grinning. Morgan gave her a thankful smile, wanting nothing at all to do with any work. They headed out the door and began the "long" walk to Casey's. Sarah had already given Casey a heads up text so she wasn't surprised as they approached his door, that he yanked it open. They walked in, as Casey headed back to his table where a file sat.

He picked up a picture and slapped it down in front of Chuck. "This the woman you saw tonight?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied.

Casey slammed two thick files into Chuck's chest. "Read through these….twice." Sarah really wanted to say something but knew if she did Casey would just tourment Chuck more. "Let us know if you flash on anything." He turned to Sarah. "Call the director. Tell him we got a priority code orange."

Chuck looked at Sarah, questioningly. She raised an eyebrow, and gave a slight head nod, indicating he go on. "Guys, is there any way that this can wait until morning? 'Cause I kind of have a priority code Ellie and Morgan. They're waiting for us for dinner."

Casey spun slowly in his chair and stood, intensity on his face. "China's top spy is in Los Angeles. We don't know why she's here, what she's planning to do. You, my friend, may be the only one who can figure that out. That's your priority." He shoved the folder into Chuck's chest again. "Copy?"

"Copy," Chuck replied.

"Actually no," Sarah said, making both men turn to her. "His top priority is not getting captured, and if we leave the dinner, his sister and best friend will both think something is wrong. Not a small something, but a big something, and that, Casey, is something we don't want."

Casey stared at her. She could tell he was torn. He wanted this Chinese spy, she understood why, but Casey had to think long term. The Intersect was the number one priority. While it needed to be used when it could, it couldn't be risked for something that was not a pressing matter. She needed to offer Casey a compromise he could live with.

"Look, let us go, eat some sizzling shrimp, watch a kung fu movie—"

"Enter the Dragon," Chuck reminded her. She turned toward him and raised an eyebrow. "Right, shutting up."

"Spend some time solidifying my cover since it appears WE are going to be here a while." Casey winced at that. "Then I will invite my boyfriend to my place to talk."

"Oh God," Chuck muttered. Sarah started sputtering with laughter. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, Ellie will think we're about to break up or something."

"How about I need to talk to you about my job and what I should do, because I hate it."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Chuck said honestly. "You wouldn't have to work there if it wasn't for me and the Intersect. Really, I'm sorry, and I know Scooter can be a pain."

"Are you two freaking kidding me right now?" Casey growled. They both turned toward him. "I'm about to take my gun out and start shooting."

"Casey, you've shot enough people, you cannot shoot Chuck."

"Who said a damn thing about Chuck? I was talking about eating a bullet before lady feelings over there started crying about you having to work your cover job."

"Well, it bothers me that you have to work at the Buy More as well," Chuck added quickly. Casey stared at him. "Well, in for a penny in for a pound. Earlier you said my friend—"

"Figure of speech," Casey replied cutting in.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "I'm not helping, am I?"

"No, Chuck. No, you're not."

}o{

Chuck had been too harried about the Chinese spy he'd flashed on to notice the first time, but when he and Sarah walked back into the apartment, he saw that Ellie had gone all out again while they were in Chinatown picking up dinner. She had somehow managed to move some furniture to make the TV area look like a miniature movie theater, with the couch and chairs arranged just so. It smelled like the pine-scented stuff he used to dust. And he smelled something else cooking. She'd set out wine glasses and two types of wine, and she changed out of her scrubs and into jeans and a nice long-sleeve blouse.

"Hey!" she chirped. "That was quick."

"It was just a quick chat. And like Sarah said, he spent less time grumbling at me 'cause she was there." He sent Sarah a grateful glance, hoping she understood the full meaning of it. She'd really saved his ass, even if they'd have to deal with some potentially uncomfortable reactions when he finally went back to Sarah's place after this.

"Well, good. That guy is way too serious about the Buy More. Like, really, he needs to chill out."

"You have no idea," Chuck said, widening his eyes. He saw Sarah twist her lips to the side in amusement.

"Well, anyway, I'm so sorry they're putting you through this, Sarah. But we can suffer together," she teased, moving in to hug the blonde.

Sarah laughed. "I dunno, I'm having a pretty good time so far."

"Really?" Ellie pulled back. "Did you guys stick Morgan in the trunk for the duration of the food run, or…?"

Everyone laughed except for Morgan, who just sent her a half-glare. "I'll have you know that Sarah and I are buddies. We're bonding. Right, Sarah?"

Sarah met his high five again and nodded. "We are."

Ellie just smirked and waved them all towards the table. "Gimme those shrimp bags already, Morgan, like I asked you to _twice already_. I'll put the shrimp in something nice."

"Elliiiiie, come oooonnn. Most of the fun is eating it out of the cool little flappy top containers," Morgan whined. "It's An Evening of Morgan, remember?" He lowered his chin and gave her a long look through his eyelashes.

"Oh, so we have to eat like peasants on An Evening of Morgan? Guess I didn't get the memo." She gave him a look and shrugged, gesturing to the dinner table. "Be my guest, everyone. Except you, Chuck. And you, Morgan."

"So just Sarah?" Chuck asked, laughing.

"Yep!"

They finally sat around the table, opening containers, the scent of shrimp sizzled in oil and spices filling the room and making Chuck's stomach growl. Chopsticks and containers distributed, rice piled onto dishes, they began to eat and talk.

"So Ellie, tell us about the gnarly patients you got at the hospital today," Morgan said, tossing a shrimp tail into the empty container they set up in the middle of the table for that purpose exactly. If he kept throwing them like he was Kobe Bryant in his career heyday, Ellie would eventually crucify him.

"Um. Morgan. HIPAA mean anything to you?" she responded, giving him a look like he was the prize idiot. She most likely thought he was the prize idiot. And some days she wasn't wrong, Chuck had to admit silently. He loved him just as he was, though.

"You don't have to tell us their social security number, Ellie. Or where they live," he said with his mouth full, shrugging dramatically.

She gave him a look and got up from the table, walking around to the kitchen and opening the oven.

"You need help with somethin', sis?" he asked, pushing to his feet and putting his napkin he'd had on his lap onto the table next to his plate.

"Uh, sure! Thanks."

He hurried around to help her, leaving Sarah with Morgan, and hearing Morgan say something about how much Sarah was going to like _Enter the Dragon_. Bless her for her interested response. He imagined a CIA agent trained and experienced in hand-to-hand combat would find the kung fu scenes silly, and he was a little embarrassed about showing her a movie that had always seemed so cool to him and to Morgan.

"What's this?" he asked as he walked into the kitchen and saw Ellie reaching into it with potholders.

"Potstickers. They're just the frozen kind from the market. But I thought it'd go well with the shrimp and rice."

"Ah, good show, El. You think Morgan'll be a little offended you're upstaging his shrimp?" he teased.

She gave him an annoyed look as she pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven and walked over to set it on top of the stove. "Does it look like I give a crap, Chuck? They're frozen potstickers. They aren't gonna upstage anything. And there are vegetable in them. For a balanced meal."

"That was such a mom-ish thing for you to say."

"I know, right?" she giggled. Just then they heard laughter coming from the dining room table and they both turned to peek out at Sarah and Morgan chatting amiably, Sarah laughing at something Morgan said and Morgan beaming proudly. "So what's that about?" Ellie asked.

"Hm?" He turned his smile from Sarah and Morgan to his sister and then frowned a little. "What d'ya mean?"

"That whole thing with Morgan calling Sarah his buddy. They look all chummy. Total one-eighty from the embarrassing display of I-Don't-Even-Know-What he put on during our game night. He was out of control."

"Ah. Yeah. He, um, really was. But he gave her a sincere apology earlier today, and she graciously accepted it."

"That _was_ gracious of her. I wanted to punch him in his stupid face."

He chuckled. "How is that any different from any other time?"

"Good point!" she laughed, grabbing a spatula and handing it to him. "Scrape these off of here and stick 'em in this bowl for me, huh? I'm gonna make a little soy sauce mixture for us to dip 'em in."

He moved up to the stove and grabbed the spatula, scraping under the potstickers to do as he was asked. "I also warned her that Morgan was pretty set on this being an opportunity for her to win his approval officially."

"Oh God," Ellie groused. "Like that makes any kind of difference in who you date..."

"I mean, you know it doesn't, I know it doesn't, and I made sure Sarah knows it doesn't." Ellie sent him a look that clearly said _GOOD_. "But she's still taking it upon herself to give him a good impression of her, making him feel good about the fact that we're dating. I guess she's just rad like that."

Ellie smirked and started stirring the soy sauce mixture. "Well, here's something that _should_ make a difference. I freaking love her. And I can't say that about anyone else you've dated that I've met."

"So basically, Jill."

"Mhm. Fuck her."

"Wow, El. Tell me how you really feel." She had. Numerous times. She'd made his ears ring with it more than once in the last five years.

She just smirked. "All I'm saying is you've come up in the world. Big time."

Chuck felt a bit of melancholy pull at him. "Yeah, I know. She's really great."

"Who's really great?" Morgan shouted from the table. "Who you talkin' about, Chuck? Huuuuh?"

They all knew who he was talking about and Chuck turned on his heel to give Morgan narrowed eyes and a less-than-amused smile. And in spite of himself, he could feel the vibrant blush. "Haaaaa. Shut up, Morgan."

"I think he was talking about Cheryl, the parking attendant in the Buy More lot," Sarah said, raising her voice a little so that everyone could hear.

That got laughter from everyone, and Chuck moved to the partition to peer through at her. "That's exactly who I was talking about. With that neon bib and the whistle. Woooo-eee."

Her eyes sparkled as she giggled, shaking her head as she took a bite out of a shrimp. "You think I'm great, Chuck?"

"He said _really_ great," Ellie said as she swung back out of the kitchen with the bowl of pot stickers in one hand and the dipping sauce in the other. Chuck just gave them all flat looks. "And he knows what he's talking about, right Morgan?"

"Oh, I'm so onboard. I was _this_ close to getting my firework fix tonight thanks to Sarah," Morgan said, holding his fingers up. "I appreciate the attempt, buddy."

"You're welcome, buddy. Chuck wouldn't budge."

"And if _you_ can't make him budge…" the bearded one started.

"Aaaaand that's enough of that, I think," he interrupted quickly, trying not to blush so hard he turned into a legitimate tomato. He imagined the government wouldn't be too pleased with their secrets being stuck in a tomato. "How 'bout them Lakers?"

"Booooo, changing the subject booooooo!" Ellie erupted, giving him a thumbs down as she dipped a pot sticker with her other hand.

He plopped down in the chair next to Sarah and laughed. "Oh come on. I thought this was An Evening of Morgan, not An Evening of Torment Chuck."

"Morgan wants this," Morgan said, gesturing to himself. "Therefore, An Evening of Morgan has become An Evening of Torment Chuck." He chuckled and reached across the table to poke Chuck's shoulder. "Anyway, I'm sure Sarah loves hearing how likable she is. Right, Sar?"

"Don't call her Sar," Ellie said, pointing. "Just 'cause you are _buddies_ now…"

"Come on. I call you El."

"Yeah and I've hated that you do that since we were kids."

"You never told me."

"I tell you that every single time you use that nickname, you dimwit."

Chuck turned to look at Sarah as they continued arguing, calmly leaned his elbows on the tabletop, and rested his chin against his fists that were folded together by his face. Sarah just looked back with no small amount of amusement. "So. How's your shrimp?"

"Really good, thanks. Morgan was right ab—"

"Sorry, what? I heard 'Morgan was right'." The man in question spun from where he was arguing with Ellie and grinned cheekily.

"About the sizzling shrimp," Sarah giggled. "You were right. It's really good."

"Heey, no problem. I know my shrimp."

"Yeah, well, you are what you eat, as they say," Ellie quipped.

Bless Sarah for trying her hardest not to laugh, but neither of them could keep it in. Even Morgan had to chuckle a bit at it. "Okay. Okay, that was pretty good. I have to admit," he muttered.

They finally got to what Morgan called Stage 2 of An Evening of Morgan. Chuck was just glad they got through Stage 1 without his best friend and sister forcing him to go so far as to make out with the CIA agent in front of them. They pretty mercilessly made him blush by reciting other things he'd said about her to them while she wasn't there. Morgan even made up a quote about Chuck developing a fetish for hotdog necklaces. Chuck would've strangled him if Sarah hadn't grabbed his sleeve and held him back. At least she seemed to be tickled pink by the whole thing, and not outwardly uncomfortable.

As they all took their seats, Morgan and Ellie both seemed to make a dash for the plush chairs on either side of the couch, leaving the couch for the couple. Almost as if they were both of the same mind. If Sarah were even remotely his real girlfriend, he'd be totally touched by the fact that they were both trying so hard to wing for him. But this was all a lie, and he had to repeat that in his head over and over when Sarah smirked a little at him, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear as she sat next to him and scooted so that she was leaning against his side.

And when he lifted his arm to drape it over the back of the couch, she snuggled into him, and even subtly reached up to take his hand and pull his arm down to drape over her shoulders instead. Or maybe it wasn't so subtle, and purposely so, because he caught that Ellie had seen her do it and was practically vibrating with excitement about it.

 _Enter the Dragon_ was every bit as awesome as it always was. Morgan muttered some of the lines under his breath, causing Ellie to sometimes send a side-eye towards him. If it had just been the two of them, like usual, Chuck would probably be doing the same, he'd seen the movie so often, and he loved the voices in the dub. So cheesy and epic.

And those equally epic _WHAP_ sounds whenever Bruce Lee punched one of his foes…

It wasn't until Bruce started _really_ fighting that Sarah seemed to almost be getting into it, her body tensed next to his. And as Morgan pointed to the screen with a, "Wait, wait, here it comes, watch this!" before Bruce completely leveled a guy with one of his insane high kicks, everyone did a loud, "Ohhhh!" and Sarah went so far as to breathe, "Holy shit!"

"Next level radical, isn't he?" Chuck asked, and he received a wide-eyed look in response. And he'd be worried Sarah might be unimpressed by this kung fu movie, with everything she had to know about real fighting.

"Get out! Did he really just do that?!" she exclaimed towards the end of the movie.

And Chuck wasn't sure if it was just some deep-seated wishful thinking, but he thought the more Sarah got into it, Ellie started getting into it, too, instead of just quietly suffering through the nerdy things he and Morgan usually made her watch.

As Chuck made to go turn off the movie, Ellie leapt to her feet and held her hands out. "No, no, no, no, no. Don't move. Don't even budge. I've got the movie." She seemed almost a little embarrassed at her own outburst as Chuck and Sarah both folded themselves back against the couch, Chuck dropping his arm over Sarah's shoulders again. She leaned into him and sent him a bit of a look he couldn't read, then turned away again.

"And so!" Morgan announced, standing up beside Ellie as she leaned down to turn off the movie. He held his hands up like the ringleader of a circus, presenting the next performer. "We come to Stage 3 of An Evening of Morgan. Since Chuck was a lily-livered wimpykins about the fireworks, I've had to table that." Chuck glared at him for that as Sarah giggled and pat his leg placatingly. "So instead, we are going to do a three-legged race out in the courty—"

"NOPE!"

"Absolutely not."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Chuck, Sarah, and Ellie all responded at the same time, and in the same tone, making Morgan blink. They all burst into laughter, and eventually Sarah announced she was going to call it a night.

He'd nearly forgotten about the Chinese spy by that point, as much as he'd enjoyed their dinner and the movie. It had almost become...normal. Real. But when Sarah sent him a look over her shoulder, it all came rushing back and he nearly caught himself frowning.

"Chuck, um...were you gonna…?" She left it open, which almost felt mean, honestly.

"Right! Yes. Um, I'm going with Sarah back to her place," he said slowly, climbing to his feet and smoothing his hands down his front, straightening his shirt. "That whole...thing in the news about the, uh, the-the guy following people's cars and attacking them when they get out. You know, that whole...I just feel better about this, um, what with it being such a late hour, if I, uh…"

He was a little embarrassed by the look Ellie and Morgan exchanged. And then his best friend cleared his throat and bit his upper lip. "No, hey. You don't gotta explain, you two. That's okay."

 _Oh God…_

"I'll send you home with some leftover shrimp, Sarah. Come on…" Morgan grabbed Sarah by her shoulder, making Chuck wince a little bit, afraid the little guy'd get an elbow in his jaw for it, but the CIA agent held back, a confused look on her face. Then Morgan looked over his shoulder when she wasn't looking and sent Chuck a thumbs up and a celebratory but silent, "YESSS!"

He hated his life.

"Hey…" He turned and looked at Ellie, who was just barely managing to rein herself in, unlike Morgan. She slid in close and lowered her voice. "Why are you being so dodgy, Chuck? This is the twenty-first century. If you're going to her place, you don't have to act like a teenager afraid he's gonna get busted for sneaking into his girlfriend's bedroom window on a school night." She looked like she was laughing at him.

"It-It's not that. It's...Sarah's struggling a little." Concern swept over her face and it touched him. "That job at the Wienerlicious is getting to her. She hates it, ya know? And her boss is getting on her ass a lot. So I offered to let her talk it out with me tonight, after dinner and the movie. That's all it is."

Ellie sighed and nodded. "I feel for her. That shitty Bar and Grille I worked at in high school made me feel crazy. I didn't want a burger for months after I quit that shithole." He shrugged. "Well, if she needs someone else to talk to who's worked food service, let her know she can always come to me."

"Thanks, El." He gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. "And thanks for making her feel welcome here. Seriously."

"Of course." When they pulled back, she patted him on the chest. "Take care of that girl. And, uh, don't hurry back…"

He hated the wink she sent him as he hastened to the door to meet Sarah who was waiting with a bag of shrimp leftovers.

}o{

"UGGGGH!"

"Did you flash?" Sarah asked. It was closing in on three in the morning. They had finally left Ellie's at 11:00 and headed back to Sarah's. Ellie had a smile on her face that told Chuck he might have some problems when he got back. They had started out at the table, but after a while Sarah moved to the bed, and told him to come join her. He raised an eyebrow and Sarah muttered something about how Ellie probably already thought they were on the bed. He joined her and they continued to look through the files. He had already gone through them once, and this was his second run through. Nothing had made him flash and he was beginning to think that they had wasted the night.

"No," he said, rubbing his palms against his eyelids. "I'm just sick of looking at these files, and my back hurts from bending over, and I feel whiny."

"You are whiny," Sarah replied. Chuck looked over at her, and her lips were twitching.

"I'm sorry, some of us haven't had the super secret torture training others in this room had at the school of the CIA and...what do you call it?" Sarah gave him a look. "Oh, come on, I can't know what the school is called?"

"The Farm." Chuck began to grin. "See, this is why I didn't tell you. Soon you'll be singing something about Old McDonald, and I won't get any more work done because you'll drone on and on and on."

"Langston Graham had a farm," he began singing.

"Oh god," she muttered, but she was grinning and wasn't about to stop him.

"Ee I ee I ohhh. And on this farm he had a Sarah. Ee I ee I ohhh. She shot with a bang, bang here, and a bang, bang there, here a bang, there a bang, everywhere a bang, bang. Langston Graham had a farm ee I ee I ohhh." Sarah was crying she was laughing so hard. Chuck's lips twitched and he looked away.

"Is that your only verse?" He nodded. "I don't believe you." He shrugged and didn't say anything. She sighed. "I'm probably going to regret doing this, but it's probably a line about Bryce isn't it?" Chuck didn't say anything, his grin just grew some more. "Sing it."

"You won't get mad?" he asked. She shook her head. His lips were twitching holding back the laughter. "It's the same line, just no shooting involved. He's just bang banging—" Sarah's mouth dropped. "I'm sorry—"

He couldn't say anything else because she fell over on the bed howling with laughter. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I mean, you're not wrong."

Chuck realized what that meant. "I'm sorry," he said softly and looked away. He needed to change the subject. "So where does reading files rank on the super secret torture scale?" Sarah just looked at him. "Come on, I mean there are possibilities of papercuts, headaches, this crick in my neck is KILLING me." She sat up, still giving him a flat look. "So not a ten."

"You know the ranking system? Was that in the Intersect?"

"What? No. That was me guessing. A one to ten ranking system is used for many things….including movies."

"I mean was it the hair braids in _10_?" Chuck gave her a flat look and she just giggled. "Okay, time for bed." She began closing stuff up and Chuck began to get up and go find his shoes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting my shoes so I can go home and go to bed. I don't need Ellie thinking we've taken things to the next level. We aren't ready for that. You aren't ready for that. Hell, I'm not ready for that…..although she wouldn't be upset if we did."

Sarah gave him a look. He was silently chuckling to himself. "Why do you say that?"

He looked over at her and he could tell she was trying to figure something out. What, he couldn't decipher. "Oh, she loooooooves you." Sarah grinned and looked away. "I mean you are such an upgrade." She looked back at him, a smirk on her face.

"Jealous?"

"Oh, me, jealous? Uh, no. Because now it just means that you may have to get some of these talks that are only reserved for me."

She looked at him through her lashes. "But a good cover boyfriend would make sure that never happens to me, Chuck."

Chuck leaned his forehead against the wall. "I'm a bad cover boyfriend?" he offered.

"Chuck, we both know that's not true." Chuck turned his head, putting the side of his face against the wall, Sarah laughing at him. "Now take your shoes off, Chuck. I was upset, and you spent the night to comfort me because I'm in a bad place right now. I hate my job, but because of the way I quit my job in Washington I can't get decent references. I'm very frustrated, and I just need my boyfriend." She looked at him like it was the simplest idea in the world. Chuck knew it would never fly with Ellie. He knew there would be questions, but he thought back to the El Ciudad mission when she told him to never give too personal a detail in your cover, but there was a certain kinship. Suddenly he wondered, was there a kernel of truth? Was this a little on the nose? Was she here because of something in Washington? He didn't know, but what he did know was Sarah spent all her time protecting him, and if she wanted to sleep, and him go back in the morning, then that was what he would do. He slipped off his shoes, and grabbed a pillow.

"That's what a boyfriend would do," he said softly, and headed toward the couch.

"Chuck," she began.

"See you in the morning," he said with a finality in his tone. As he lay the pillow down and looked back, he saw her watching him. There was something in her eyes. What, he didn't know. He didn't sleep for a long time thinking about what he had seen there.

* * *

A/N: Hehehehehe


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** DC here: I have an announcement to make. After a long talk with SC, I will be stepping aside from this fic. My replacement...EDC…*smirks* SC….it's all yours.

I have nothing to do with any of this. ^ I wash my hands of this weirdness. - SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK. We aren't making any money from this.

* * *

Chuck straightened his Nerd Herd button up a little as he peered at himself in the mirror. At least the second time around he'd been able to put the right buttons in the right holes. That hadn't been the case the first time. He was just so tired after last night, and the fitful sleep in Sarah's hotel room.

It wasn't just that the couch wasn't long enough for his body. It was that he had too much on his mind. Chinese spies, sizzling shrimp, Bruce Lee...Sarah's excitement about Bruce Lee, because that was an interesting development. Really interesting. And, he had to admit, cool.

But he was also uncomfortable after the hours of looking through file after file, document after document. The pile had been so damn big and he'd gone through it one and a half times per Sarah's request, and she thankfully called it a night. Too much had been going through his head, even if none of it had to do with a flash. And he just hadn't slept well.

Which was weird. Because he figured it'd be easier to sleep when he had his CIA bodyguard protecting him, right there in the room. And yet… Perhaps it was that Sarah was his CIA bodyguard. And not some Mark Wahlberg looking dude. He'd have no problem sleeping if a Mark Wahlberg looking dude was sleeping in the same room. He wasn't even really a fan of that guy's movies. It'd be perfect…

Shaking his head at his bizarre train of thought, he walked down the hallway and swung into the kitchen to find Ellie in her scrubs, sitting at the bar munching on yogurt and granola.

"Morning," he chirped, hoping beyond all hope she didn't get that particular look—and there it was. That particular look.

There was a sparkle in his sister's green eyes as she turned and gave him a closed-mouth smile around her yogurt. "Mmm, hi!"

Chuck squeezed her shoulder as he swept past, grabbing himself a bowl and moving to the fridge. "Shift this morning?"

"Mhm. How can ya tell?" She smirked at the flat look he gave her over his shoulder as he went into the fridge to get the milk.

"Just pass me the Berry Loops, Sarcastic Sally."

Ellie giggled and passed them over. "So!"

"Oooooh, no. Please don't. Dear God, please."

"You have no idea what I was about to say!" she tried, giving him a glare.

"Twenty six years of experience with you says I know exactly. Soooo how was your night with Saaraaah?" he finished in the most Ellie-voice he could muster. She laughed and shook her head, but then she raised her eyebrow at him expectantly. "It was exactly what I said it was going to be. We talked for a long time, well into the wee hours of the morning, and then I slept on _her couch_ because I am a gentleman, okay?"

She put her spoon down and held her hands up defensively. "Okay. Geez. I don't care if you went there to have sex or not, Chuck. Just so you know."

"Oh my God."

"What?! I don't! That's low on my list of priorities, here." She said it like it was such a normal thing for her to even have a list of priorities when it came to _his_ romantic relationship, but he let it go.

"Well, good...I guess."

"But since it's just us here, I do have to wonder if that's something—"

"Ellie, please no. No. I love you. So much. But that isn't anything I ever need to have a conversation with you about. I'll, uh, I'll handle that part of my relationship with Sarah. Deal?"

She swiped her hands through the air and nodded. "Deal. Then let me just ask this…" He poured his Berry Loops into his bowl a little roughly, sending some of them swooping right out of the bowl and landing on the counter, and he picked at them one by one, popping them into his mouth. "You don't have to attack your loops, bud. It isn't about sex. I'd honestly rather never hear anything about that. I was just opening up the—You're giving me a look, so I'll just ask. Is Sarah okay?"

The frustration from the path Ellie had been taking with the conversation abated just as quickly as it had been flared up. Because he heard genuine concern and worry. In spite of the complicated nature of the situation, the fact that Sarah Walker wasn't actually his girlfriend but in fact was instead _Agent_ Walker the CIA agent tasked with protecting the computer in his brain, he felt a soft bloom of warmth in his chest. His sister genuinely liked Sarah.

She liked _Sarah_. And as much as Sarah was pretending to be interested in him, dating him, the Sarah who came into his home and spent time with Ellie so far had been the same Sarah he'd seen last night, for instance, or that first early morning on the beach.

It felt nice. He felt almost...well, not so alone. Even if he was alone in other ways. He decided not to think about how Ellie would react if she knew Sarah was a CIA agent. He was clinging to this warm bloom.

"You know, I think she'll be okay. She has ideas, you know? And she, um, talked them through with me. We did a lot of work last night, I think." And technically he wasn't lying about that.

"Good. She isn't feeling so hopeless…? It's easy to feel that way when working in the food service industry. I know firsthand how much it sucks. So just let her know, if she wants to ever talk to me, she can." He smiled as he poured his milk, watching her get up and stick her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. "I mean, not just for advice. I don't have all the answers in the world. But if she just wants to yell with me about how much it sucks, I'm so game."

Chuck laughed and gave her a side hug as she moved past him. "Thanks, sis. I'll let her know. I get an earful about Scooter on the daily, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind having someone who really gets it."

She grabbed her car keys and bag, then spun back to face him as she got halfway to the door. "Oh! Hey! Mother's Day. Tomorrow. Don't forget, okay? I'm serious. Just me and you and a stupid amount of food. I've got everything ready, a menu in my head…" She gave him a warning look.

"It's our very own October version of Mother's Day and I wouldn't miss it for the world. I swear."

Ellie went to the door and opened it, turning to face him again with a smile. "I should hope not."

"I promise."

She gave him another look, waved, and swept out into the courtyard, shutting the door behind her.

He just had to make it to tomorrow night. He'd be fine if he made it to Mother's Day. But he wasn't letting Ellie down. He swore he wouldn't, not just to her but to himself. And he thought the fact that he hadn't flashed on anything last night meant he wouldn't have to worry about that.

}o{

Chuck was sitting at the Nerd Herd desk, checking the dark web to see if there were any hints of Rockstar coming out with a new video game from the Red Dead series. He needed a heads up if Morgan was right on something like this; it was that drastic. Casey walked by the desk and motioned for Chuck to follow. He hopped up and quickly fell in step with him.

"So I went over the Department of Defense files on Mei Ling again this morning. Sorry, no flashes." Casey kept walking and just gave him a look.

"Had to look a second time?" Casey asked, humor in his voice.

"Yeah, I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything," Chuck replied, wondering where this was going.

Casey looked around, saw they were fairly alone and stopped walking. He turned to Chuck. "Needed Sarah last night to protect you while you were checking those files?"

"Well, no, but I thought not doing it at Ellie's apartment was best," Chuck replied, seriously wondering where this was going.

"All night, Chuck?" Casey asked, an eyebrow raised.

Chuck drew himself up, causing Casey's lips to twitch. "I had to have a reason to go over there, Casey. The situation last night provided the perfect cover. Multiple opportunities."

"Wow, multiple, huh? No wonder she's so keen on staying here."

Chuck looked around and stepped towards him. "Casey, watch it." Casey's eyebrows went up. "Look, we did the check on the files, we strengthen our cover by making Ellie think I was there for Sarah to talk to. That's it...talk." Casey studied him. "I slept on the damn couch, and furthermore, while I couldn't care less what you think of me, she's the one who has to have me as a cover boyfriend. So why don't you cut all of us some slack?"

Casey crossed his arms, glaring. "Feel better?"

"Nope, absolutely terrified you're gonna kill me," Chuck admitted, swallowing and realizing what he had done.

"Can't. Too much paperwork, especially since you have the Intersect in your head," Casey replied like he was discussing the weather.

"Guess I better hope they never make another," Chuck said flippantly. Casey's eyes darkened for just a moment. Chuck wasn't sure what that was about, but he hurried on. "Listen, I get it, she's gorgeous, and amazing, and….I'm out of my freakin' depth with her. I get you calling me a moron is your pet name for me." Casey grunted. Chuck didn't think it was the agreement grunt. "But for the love of God, the other day, with all the teasing, you're killing me." Casey just looked at him, almost grinning...almost. "Okay, how's this? Make all the jokes you want about me, but her...she's just doing her job, Casey. It's bad enough that I have trouble with the cover some days, she doesn't need you adding to it."

Casey studied him. "You're not going to say a word about anything I say about you?" Chuck shook his head. "That's half the fun of it, Moron."

Chuck grinned. "Hug?" Casey glared at him. Chuck swallowed. "Yeah, we aren't there yet. Any ideas on Mei Ling?"

Casey shook his head. "No, but she's here for a reason. Maybe you'll flash on something tonight."

Chuck's brow furrowed. "Tonight?"

"Yeah," Casey replied, nodding. "We're running a surveillance op on her. We're gonna tail her, see if you flash on anyone she's talking to. Might tell us why she's here."

Chuck was starting to get excited. "My first stakeout. Okay. Okay, yeah." He looked up at Casey. "What do I need to bring? Sweater? Light jacket?"

"No, you just bring that computer in your head."

Chuck had had it. He had disarmed the bomb using a virus, not the Intersect. He knew about the cameras at the Wookie's house, not the Intersect. He was valuable. "Okay, you know what? I have a lot more to offer this team, other than the Intersect." He snapped his fingers. "For instance, what are we doing for tunes tonight? I can make a stakeout mix."

"Tunes?"

"Yes, tunes. Background music. Like 'Somebody's Watching Me'?" Casey snarled. "What type of music do you like?"

Casey looked around. "Seriously?" Casey stepped in close inches from Chuck's face. Chuck's eyes got wide. "You ever tell a soul…" he didn't have to finish, Chuck was raising his hand to make a vow. "Jazz. But not just any kind of jazz. That old crime movie jazz."

"Yeah, that moody and bluesy sax?" Chuck asked, grinning. Casey nodded. "Trumpets coming in for that big, full, rich sound? I can see that, Big Guy."

"John," Big Mike said, interrupting them. "Need all the green shirts in my office, on the double."

Chuck looked over at Casey and smirked at him. "Have fun." Casey snorted, headed toward Big Mike, but not before backhanding Chuck in the testicles as he walked by.

Chuck gasped. "That's really not fair." He felt the tears coming on, and limped to the break room to cry in peace.

}o{

Sarah frowned as she heard the bleep of her phone where she'd left it on her bed. And she pulled her ponytail out of the collar of her jacket as she crossed the room, grabbing her phone and looking at it. The text was from Chuck, instead of Casey like she'd expected.

 _We're in the parking lot outside of the west exit. Casey says hi and he's so excited about the stakeout, he can't wait for my jams!_

The frown died on her face and she laughed out loud, sticking the phone in her pocket. She wasn't going to respond, in case the NSA agent snatched Chuck's phone from him and looked at what he was texting. She didn't want to start this hours long stakeout on the wrong foot.

The CIA agent knew from experience that stakeouts were especially shitty if they started out with someone being in a grumpy mood. And Casey would be even worse.

Still smirking, she grabbed her pack and swung it onto her shoulder, hurrying down to the west exit to meet the boys. The second she got outside, she saw the black stakeout van parked in the corner next to the dumpster, away from the lights of the lot, and she went straight for the passenger side door, swinging it open and hopping in. "Okay, let's go."

"Hi!" She nearly jumped as Chuck poked his head out from between her seat and Casey's. "So I don't know if you two are going to be able to agree on where we start with the stakeout tunes. Do we wanna go more literal first, like songs about spies and police? The Clash, 'Police and Thieves'? A little Hall & Oates 'Private Eyes'? Or should we go with some nice calming jams. I've got a little jazz to really get us in the mood for sitting in a car in the shadows to watch a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. Lester Young is on here. Or Miles Davis. He's a genuine P.I. mood, you know what I mean—Ack! Hey!"

Even while driving Casey had shoved Chuck into the darkness of the back of the van. "Shut up. We aren't listening to music. This isn't a movie. It's real life, you moron."

"So we just sit in eerie silence? That sounds fun," came Chuck's voice from the back. "Not awkward at all."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek and looked back at Chuck. "We're trying to keep you safe, Chuck. And honestly, I wasn't altogether on board with you coming on this stakeout in the first place."

"We need that stupid head of his. Or at least, the Intersect that's unfortunately stuck inside of that stupid head."

She fought the urge to glare at Casey for that. He was making quick work of the dark Los Angeles streets and they were almost at the Bamboo Dragon. "And so what if he flashes? Then what?"

"Then we do what we'd normally do. Get to the bottom of it. Knock 'em over the head, take 'em in for questioning, figure out what the hell she's doing here…"

Chuck popped back up between them. "Do you think that's the best idea? Just...kidnap some person 'cause a Chinese spy is talking to 'em?"

Casey growled. "Obviously, that was tongue in cheek, you idiot. What is it you really think intelligence agents do? That'd cause an international incident if they're at all related to Chinese anything."

"Oh." The nerd let out a weak chuckle. "Good one. I guess."

"Let's just follow Mei Ling when she comes out. We know she works at the Bamboo Dragon. We know her shift ends in twenty minutes. We can tail her and figure out what her game is. Keep it simple and preferably less dangerous since Chuck is in the van," Sarah said, the last part coming through her teeth as she grit them in the NSA agent's direction.

Casey just grunted his consent and finally pulled to a stop outside of the restaurant, in the dark, far enough away so as not to attract attention. But they could still see the entrance and any alleyways connected to other exits out of the building.

After about five minutes, Chuck came back, resting his arms on the front seats on either side of him. "So, seriously...I know we agreed on awkward, tense silence but I think I have the perfect guy to ease the tension. Say it with me, Sarah: Michael Bolton. You didn't say it with me, Sarah."

Sarah had to press the back of her hand to her mouth and force her eyes to settle on the Bamboo Dragon entrance. Otherwise, she'd let out a laugh similar to the one she'd enjoyed in the privacy of her hotel room.

"Okay, you know what?" Casey whipped around. "Not only do I want the silence from not listening to your crap mixtape, I want silence from you. Shut your mouth, nerd."

"Technically it is an iPod, not a tape. But that was super 'nineties of you, Casey."

"Walker, I'm gonna murder the asset."

"Not if I murder you first, Agent Casey. Put on your big boy pants and deal."

"I can't concentrate."

"How long have you been in this business?" she asked. "You can't watch a freaking door and listen to someone talking at the same time? Really?"

That just got an annoyed growl from him, but she knew she'd made her point. And then she turned and eyed Chuck. She didn't even have to say anything. He winced and mimicked zipping his mouth shut. She figured that was that.

And they spent the next seven minutes in total silence, Chuck popping his head back up next to them, but never speaking, just watching the restaurant with them. But then she felt Casey tense next to her.

"Hey. We got a bogie at six o'clock."

Sarah sat back and went into her holster, pulling her gun out and leaving it hidden at her hip where the man she saw creeping up along the left side of the van wouldn't see it when he got to the window. They'd parked too close to the restaurant. She knew they should've put more distance. A black van was way too conspicuous.

The man sidled up to the window and looked inside as Casey hid his own gun in his jacket, pointing it at the man. She took just a moment to wonder why Chuck wasn't freaking out the way he usually seemed to in situations like this.

She innocently rested her chin on her fist and smiled at the man as he looked in the van.

"Excuse me...Someone sent in an order for sizzling shrimp…" He lifted a bag with the Bamboo Dragon logo on it, looking a little unsure of the situation. "A Mr. Carmichael?" he added, looking at the receipt stapled to the outside of the bag.

What the—?

"Yeah!" Chuck burst out from between them, and he immediately dug in his pants pocket for what she assumed was his wallet. "Yeah. That's me! That's me…" He reached past an incredibly perplexed Agent John Casey and plucked the bag from the worker's hand as he thrust it in the window. "I'll take that. Thank you very much."

Sarah gaped at Chuck as he took some money out of his wallet and reached past Casey again to hand the man some money. "You go 'head and keep the change."

The absolute ridiculousness of the situation, the absurdity, the downright hilarity, of what Chuck had just done hit her right between the eyes. If it wasn't enough to imagine Chuck sending in a text order for sizzling shrimp since they'd be outside of the restaurant, something about delivering it to a dark van by the dark alleyway a couple hundred feet away, and ordering it under the name Carmichael… the look on Casey's face really did it.

And she had to turn away completely as she smirked hard, amusement ringing in her chest, making it difficult to keep from outright laughing.

This guy was seriously something else.

And she wondered if Casey wasn't too in shock at his utter boldness and naivety to outright reach into the back and strangle the nerd to death, Intersect or not.

"Well, thank you!" the man chirped into the window, dashing back to work.

"Have a good night!" Chuck called after him with a wave, sticking his wallet back in his pocket with a grunt as if he hadn't done what he'd just done. She couldn't help marveling at him. And she turned back to meet Chuck's perplexed look, once he finally realized something was off. She twisted her mouth to the side to keep from smiling too hard, but she knew the sparkle was still in her eyes as he glanced to Casey and back to her again. "What? It's for Morgan. I called it in."

Casey worked his jaw and looked down at the steering wheel, the muscle in his cheek twitching so violently, she was surprised it didn't reach out and punch Chuck in the face itself. "The idea behind a stakeout is to remain _in_ conspicuous, you moron."

"Uuuh, hellooo...That's why I used an alias," Chuck snarked.

Sarah swallowed another laugh, shaking her head. And as she glanced out of her window, she saw a dark limo slowly making its way down the street towards the restaurant. She sobered up immediately. "Hey. I think we have some company."

The limo went right past them and sidled up to the entrance of the Bamboo Dragon. The front doors opened and a beefy fellow wheeled an elderly Chinese man she recognized vaguely from their research out towards the limo.

The driver of the limo climbed out and hurried around to open the backdoor as two of the other men lifted the old man out of his chair and put him in the vehicle.

"Who's that?" Chuck asked.

"Old Ironsides is Ben Lo Pan. Big shot businessman. Owns, like, half of Chinatown," Casey said as they all kept their eyes on the scene. That was right. Ben Lo Pan. He was one of the names on the list of people she needed to know about in the LA area, people she had to watch out for. She'd compiled the list herself over the last almost two weeks since she got to Burbank. Because she wasn't about to be caught flat-footed here.

Just like that, Mei Ling burst out of the alleyway, probably having exited through a side door. She walked with purpose, a motorcycle helmet in one hand, the other clenched into a fist. Shit was absolutely going down.

"There's Mei Ling," Sarah said, putting her seatbelt on. And as the Chinese spy straddled the motorcycle parked nearby and immediately took off, she added, "We're on."

Casey turned on the car but stayed put.

"Hey! Hey, _hey_ , she's gonna get away! What are you doing?" Chuck asked when they didn't immediately follow.

"No, we're good," she explained. "Always leave a thirty yard cushion from your target on a tail." She leaned forward a bit to look past Chuck to Casey. "She's following Ben Lo Pan's limo."

"Oh, wow. A tail on a tail?" Chuck said, tilting his head to look at her. She kept her eyes on Mei Ling's retreating figure. "Does-Does that mean like a sixty yard cushion or would you say that...regular...tail rules apply in this situa—"

Casey's hand swept in, covered Chuck's face, and gave a hearty push. She heard the thump of Chuck landing on his back somewhere in the dark and a quiet "Ow, Jesusss…" as Casey stepped on the gas.

"Put your damn seatbelt on!" Casey snapped, looking up at the rearview mirror as he tailed Mei Ling.

She thought she heard some grumbling from the backseat, but there was also the clicking sound of Chuck putting his seatbelt on as well.

They followed Mei Ling and Ben Lo Pan's limo for another ten minutes, weaving through Chinatown, all the way to the other side of downtown LA. Sarah kept her eyes on the motorcycle as Mei Ling guided it around the corner of the building that the limousine had stopped in front of.

"She's in there," she said.

"Yeah, I saw 'er." Casey stopped the car across the street from the alleyway Mei Ling had driven into and put the windows down so that they could watch as she climbed off and pulled a heavy-duty gun out of the bike's seat storage. "Glocks on a crotch rocket. My kinda gal," the NSA agent grumbled with an extra something in his tone. Something was really wrong with him, she thought to herself as she kept her eye on the spy in the alley.

"Those aren't Glocks. They're Chinese army-issued pistols. She's not here on a spy mission. She's here to assassinate the guy in the wheelchair," Chuck rushed out from the backseat. Sarah spun to look at Chuck. He'd flashed on the weapon. He had that breathless look to him, his brow furrowed...just like after the other times he'd flashed before. She'd taken note of his reaction every time she was present during one of his flashes.

"You sure?" Casey asked.

"Yeah…pretty sure. You know, locked away in the brain, here. I mean, I'm not...braggin'. The Intersect's doing all the heavy lifting."

Sarah got things back on track. "Okay, we can't wait for the cops. By the time they get here, Mei Ling or Ben Lo Pan may be dead. Or both." That would cause an absolute shitstorm and she wasn't sure Los Angeles would survive it.

Casey made a sound of agreement. "Mei Ling could be a small part of an operation. We need 'er alive so we can find out what she knows." Mei Ling was already on her way up the side of the building, climbing the fire escape with the grace and ease of someone who'd done this plenty of times before. "Catch her, the Chinese spy has a lot we'd love to hear."

Sarah could feel she and Casey were on the same page as she climbed out of the van and heard Casey doing the same. "Bring the car around front," her partner commanded.

"Oh! Wha—Hey! 'Round the front! And then what do I do?" Chuck asked through the window.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, seeing that he was specifically asking her for instructions, his wide, nervous gaze on her in particular. "Stay in the car!" she snapped, hoping he knew just how much she meant it this time.

She heard him say, "My four favorite words" as she rushed off with Casey. At least she knew he'd be safe out here. They were going in where the action would be. They'd draw the attention.

They walked up behind a group of young people dressed for clubbing, stopping at a heavy-looking door guarded by a bouncer. The group was let in and Sarah took a quick glance at the red-lit room, the swarms of people drinking and dancing inside. "The bar's crowded. See her?"

"No."

The bouncer swung the door shut again and glanced at them both. "On the list?" he asked with a head nod. Casey went for his pocket and the guy grabbed a gun, pointing it at his face fast. "Hands in the air! Now!"

This had gone downhill fast, she thought as she slowly lifted her hands.

"Whoa...easy...federal agents," Casey said in a smooth voice, but the bouncer didn't budge, just flicking his gun towards the brick wall beside her.

"Against the wall," he commanded.

Sarah couldn't help smirking a bit as she turned towards the wall, Casey falling in line next to her. "Come on, you're making a big mistake," she goaded. "Your boss is in danger." She put her hands against the wall as directed, her brain going a mile a minute.

She turned her head to her right and met Casey's gaze. All it took was the smallest nod of his head before they both leapt into action at the same time. Casey spun on his heel and caught the man's wrist with one hand, bringing his fist around with the other to crack it into the bouncer's face. That brought him stumbling into her line and all it took was a quick double kick to the head before he was out like a light.

"Too easy," Casey growled as she hurried to the door and pushed it open, feeling him on her heels. She rushed into the bar and grabbed her gun, sweeping her gaze through the place, knowing they didn't have much time to stop this.

She found Mei Ling striding purposefully through the room, both hands going into her jacket and coming out…. _Shit!_

"GUN!" the CIA agent belted, sending everyone in the bar diving and screaming. The men sitting around Ben Lo Pan leapt to their feet and spun towards Mei Ling with their own pieces, but the spy was too quick, burying a bullet in one of them, catching another…

In spite of them turning over the table to protect their boss, Sarah was sure these guys weren't skilled enough to take on a spy of Mei Ling's calibre and win. Once the bullets started coming in her direction, though, Sarah felt a hand grab the back of her jacket and yank her down out of the line of fire. She helped Casey flip the table to give them cover.

Apparently Ben Lo Pan's men thought they were with Mei Ling in spite of the warning Sarah had given them. As Casey started shooting to give her cover, she crawled out from behind the table and dashed to dive behind the couch. She watched as Casey followed close behind, hitting the floor hard next to her.

"They think we're with her," she said.

"What?" he asked over the hail of bullets smacking into the couch.

"They think we're with her!' she snapped this time. "No kill shots." Starting a war with China wasn't high on her to-do list this week.

Casey glared at her for a second, then grumbled reluctantly. "I hate playing nice," he growled, peeking out from behind the couch and taking a few shots. By the outcries, she imagined he'd gotten one or two of them.

She caught sight of Mei Ling working her way through the room and watched as the efforts of Ben Lo Pan's men turned to the spy. She took them out easily, then rushed out of the door, probably chasing an escaping Ben Lo Pan.

"Shit," she breathed. "We have to get out there, Casey. She's gonna kill him."

"Ugh, fine! I'm done with this shit, anyway." He popped up from his cover and took a few direct shots, scanning the room. Shrugging, she popped up next to him and buried a bullet in the legs of the men Casey hadn't already sent crashing into the floor. "That's all of 'em. Go!"

Sarah took off, sprinting through the doorway, crashing out into an alley and racing towards the street.

The moment she broke around the corner, she spotted him immediately, his back to her, hands up, hunched over in fear as he spoke to the Chinese agent who still held both of her guns.

"FEDERAL AGENT, DROP YOUR GUNS!" she belted, fear rocketing through her. But the woman sprinted in the other direction instead.

"NO, NO, NO!" Chuck yelled, spinning to face them as they ran towards him, even stepping to block her from getting any sort of clear shot. Not that she had a mind to shoot the spy. That wouldn't help the situation.

"Chuck!" She ran to him, grabbing his wrist. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Are you hurt?"

"No…"

She tightened her grip on him, still scanning her eyes up and down his body, not entirely trusting him and needing to see for herself. And when she was assured he was all right, she turned to look at the corner where Mei Ling had disappeared.

"What the hell just happened?" Casey asked.

Knowing Mei Ling was long gone by now, she turned back to Chuck, looking at him as agony wrinkled his face. "She was just tryin'a rescue her brother," he breathed, and she recognized it immediately. Guilt. "I guess I was wrong…" He dropped his gaze to the side. "I blew it."

Sarah felt herself frowning. Shit. "How do you know that?"

"The-The guy! The wheelchair guy! He's Triad! She just told me. I helped him get away, 'cause I thought he was in trouble and she told me they kidnapped her brother. That's why she was after him! That old frail-looking Chinese man is a really terrible asshole and I just helped him get away!" he groused, pushing his hands through his hair.

"She could be lying," Casey said when she met his gaze, shrugging.

"Why? Why would she do that, Casey? To a random guy on the sidewalk. She said he's Triad. What purpose would she have to lie to me? I saw them throw a guy into the trunk. His hands were all tied up and he had the whole tape over the mouth thing goin' on!" Chuck rushed out. "God, I'm such an _idiot_!" he snapped through a clenched jaw.

"Okay, well...we'll check with our superiors, find out what we can about Ben Lo Pan and Mei Ling." Casey put his gun away.

"And her brother," Sarah added.

"We-We have to go after him." She and Casey both ignored him, Sarah using her hold on Chuck's arm to pull him along towards the van. "We're going after Ben Lo Pan, right? Now that she almost got 'em, they're gonna kill her brother! That's how these bad guys operate!"

"We don't know that for sure," Sarah said, making him get into the van.

As Casey revved it up, a few more of Ben Lo Pan's men came out and started pointing in their direction. "Woops. Time to go," he murmured and they peeled out, driving in the same direction as the limousine.

But when Casey turned the corner to get onto the freeway towards Echo Park, Chuck must have realized they weren't doing what he said. "Hey, wait—Wait, where are we going? Why aren't we—We have to go after that limo, guys! Come on!"

"And where do you suggest we look now that we've lost the tail, huh?" Casey demanded, glancing at him in his mirror. "You get that Intersect to flash on Ben Lo Pan's second or third or fourth or fifth hideouts he most likely has all over this city? And then what? Huh?"

"I—I don't…"

"Chuck, look...we're going to figure this out, but from a safe place. Casey and I will get on top of it tonight. We'll find out what we can," she said, turning to face him as best she could, lowering her chin and giving him as earnest of a look as she could muster. "But for now, you need to get home, where it's safe. And get some sleep."

"This is my fault."

"Nah, kid. That isn't gonna get us anywhere. You made a mistake. Nobody's dead yet. We'll do our part of it," Casey grumbled, "And yours is to lay low for the night. Just take it easy on yourself."

But Sarah glanced back and saw Chuck was burying his face in his hands.

When they got back to Chuck and Casey's apartment complex, Sarah felt a few aches from the skirmish as she climbed out of the van. She disguised them by stretching her arms over her head, trying not to wince too much.

"Okay?" Casey grumped quietly as he came around. She frowned. Damn it.

"Fine. You?"

"Pfft."

Sarah almost smiled as she brought up the rear, filing into the courtyard and stopping at the fountain. She peeked at Chuck and saw his shoulders were slumped, guilt still written all over his face. "Hey," she murmured quietly as Casey went straight to his apartment. She saw the potential for a long night of research and being on the phone with contacts to find more information on Mei Ling and her brother ahead of her. And more hours of guzzling Casey's subpar coffee while he made frustrated grunting noises.

When Chuck turned to look at her, she couldn't help reaching up to squeeze his arm reassuringly. "Try to sleep, okay? We'll figure this out."

"Sure I can't help in there?" he asked.

"You have any contacts in China's MSS?"

He made a face.

"Yeah, I thought maybe that was the case," she teased, leaning in with a bit of a smirk. "Just get some sleep, 'kay? Please? Try."

He was quiet for a long time, glancing over his shoulder at his door, then turning back and looking down at his feet glumly. "I just keep thinkin'... How horribly I'd sleep if I knew bad mafia guys had my sister, that'd I'd come so close to saving her but some dipshit jackass helped the leader get away… I don't know if I can sleep until we fix this."

"Try," she emphasized again. "Casey and I are on it in the meantime."

Chuck nodded finally. "Okay. I'm gonna go...get some sleep."

"Good."

He said goodnight and shuffled away.

Sarah watched until he shut the door behind him, and she even paused at Casey's door to watch the light go on in Chuck's bedroom before she went inside to see if there was anything that could be done to undo the damage.

}o{

He stared at the dark ceiling, alert, awake, and knowing he wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon.

Casey and Sarah were right across the courtyard, talking to Chinese operatives on the phone maybe, or doing research, talking to Graham and Beckman perhaps. But he had this...doubt… He felt guilty for having doubt, after everything Casey and Sarah had done for him so far, and the extra effort Sarah seemed to put in, day in and day out.

It was just that he'd seen the way Graham and Beckman dismissed him, Graham especially seeming to go out of his way to call him THE ASSET instead of using his name. Like he wasn't human anymore now that he had their stupid computer in his head. He wondered if these people cared about a Chinese kidnapping victim, or his spy sister. Might it cause an international incident if they interceded?

Chuck had seen enough movies and TV shows to know that there was a chance the NSA and CIA would choose to stay out of the situation.

Mei Ling's brother would die. And it would be all Chuck's fault. Every last bit of it.

Ten minutes later, he couldn't stand it anymore...This lying down and letting other people handle it. He'd made the mistake, he'd helped Ben Lo Pan, and he was going to find out how to fix it.

He moved to his computer, powered it up, and started typing away. He dug deep, deep inside...scavenging skill sets he hadn't used in quite some time, and he dove straight into a world he'd left a while ago. It was like riding a bike, he thought with a smirk, his fingers going a mile a minute.

And as he slipped past the security like a warm knife through butter, he smirked even harder. Whatever he found, he could just chalk it up to being a flash. And no one would be the wiser.

* * *

 **A/N:** SC, DID YOU JUST….Did you...did you just bring in….Piranha?

I did just bring in Piranha. Boom. Leave us reviews. They're our adrenaline. - SC


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** EDC here. You know what's ridiculously fun? Catching something your writing partner wrote and trying to one up the gag. Taking an idea and turning it up to 11. That's what this rewrite has been. Yeah, it's gonna take a BUNCH of chapters to do what we want. Yeah, we know some of you are chomping at the bit. But you've all read our work, you KNOW we give you the payoffs. I say all this to say, trust us, we are trying to make all of this worth your while. Also, I need to publicly thank SC. She has made me a better writer by doing this. She has made me not rely on my fluff crutch (and early on she almost had to take that crutch and beat it out of me.) I promise you, when we get them there….it will be worth it. Thank you SC, I've learned so much, I've had so much fun, and I have laughed so much doing this with you. You are the best.

I'm just okay. - SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, because if we did it wouldn't be behind Psych and Veronica Mars in movies.

* * *

Sarah emerged from Casey's bathroom in full Wienerlicious regalia, still wrapping a hair tie around one of her pigtails as she met him in his living room.

"Any of this feel weird to you?" she asked him.

He looked up at her as he shut down his laptop, slipping the lid closed, and shrugging. "She's gone rogue to save her brother. Agents have done that before, they'll do it again. Don't make it the right thing to do."

"Why did the Chinese government refuse the deal?"

"Easy. Lee's not important, the Triad they've got in prison _is_. They're the Chinese, Walker. Stop pretending like they're gonna be as civilized about these things as we are."

Sarah gave him a long look. "You've been in this business longer than I have, most likely. And you know what you just said is bullshit. I've had to leave innocent people in the dust, and I've had to let them get thrown under the bus. And you have, too, no doubt. It's part of the job. But can you really blame Mei Ling here? They are letting the Triads do whatever they want with her brother."

"There isn't room for sentiment here, Walker. We aren't getting involved. Those are our orders."

"Yeah, well...You understand orders. And I do." She wasn't going to delve too deep in whether or not she always followed them, even if she understood them. "But that's kind of a foreign concept for Chuck. That guy's over there most likely having lost sleep because he helped Ben Lo Pan get away."

Casey let out a bit of a cruel snicker. When she glared, he shrugged, killing the smirk on his face. "Sorry. Just...the image of him running out of that restaurant and pushing a Triad leader to his getaway car...kinda funny."

Sarah purposefully ignored him. "How do we get Chuck to understand us not doing anything to help Mei Ling?"

"Tell 'im he has to deal with it. People die. Sometimes it isn't fair. That's how life works."

"That's so fucked up. I don't even know where to begin."

Casey shrugged and shoved toast in his mouth, grabbing his backpack. "Life is fucked up, Walker. You and I do what we can to try to minimize the damage it does to our republic."

She had no choice but to follow him out into the courtyard. Her mind was going a mile a minute as she stood off to the side and watched Casey move to Chuck's door, wondering if there was a way for her to ease Chuck's guilt.

Part of her wondered if they could maybe figure out a way to keep him from finding out what eventually happened to Mei Ling's brother—whether the Triad made him disappear or made a big deal out of his murder. She knew they wouldn't let him go. Not after the Chinese government refused to release their high-level Triad comrade.

And if Chuck found out, it would eat at him. She knew this firsthand. It was like she'd told Casey; she'd watched innocents die because she'd had to. The greater good and all that. It was a rare occurrence, but it happened enough that it had wrecked her from the inside out. There were nights when she couldn't sleep because she saw their faces, people she could've probably saved, but her orders had been not to. Because there was something bigger at work. Either more people would survive because of it, or...well, it didn't matter why. She'd done it.

If it plagued _her_ , it'd be worse for Chuck. He was the type of person who'd let it destroy his soul. He was a good person. She didn't want him to go through this, already, mere weeks into this damn operation.

Chuck slipped out of his door, a flat look on his face, looking somewhat rested, she supposed. He immediately glanced at Casey and the look on his face became even flatter. "What are we, carpooling now?"

Casey ignored the quip. "Just heard back from Washington. They confirmed Mei Ling's story. Her brother Lee Cho's a low level bureaucrat from Beijing. He was kidnapped on a business trip to LA by the local Triads."

"The Chinese received a ransom call," Sarah swept in to stand in front of Chuck, watching him jump a bit at her sudden appearance. Maybe he hadn't slept well after all. She unconsciously reached up to pick a bit of lint off of the shoulder of his shirt, then spotted the curl askew on his forehead, liking that her efforts were futile when she tried to fix it. That part was unconscious, too. "Asking for the release of a Triad captain in Beijing. They refused." She exchanged a look with Casey. "Mei Ling is here on her own. The government never signed off on a rescue op, per General Beckman's talk with the MSS Minister. She's rogue."

Chuck frowned. "What's the connection to the guy in the wheelchair?"

"The feds have always suspected Ben Lo Pan had Triad roots but they could never prove it." And she thought she could've proven it with a few quick clicks on Google, but that was just her being petty, perhaps. This whole thing had the stink of incompetence all over it.

They all turned towards the gate to slowly move past the fountain and she slung her arm through Chuck's, just in case anyone was watching.

"Okaaay, so what do we do now?" Chuck asked.

And this was the hard part. Before she could answer, Casey did. And that made her frown even harder. "Nothin'," he grumbled. And Sarah was frustrated by the pointed tone in his voice. "We stay out of it." It was like he was goading Chuck to even try to argue.

Chuck was undeterred. Which was on brand.

"Hold on a second," he said, stopping and turning to face the NSA agent. His voice was strong, steady, and this was going to be harder to do than both of them had thought. "I watched that guy get stuffed into a trunk and it's because _I got it wrong_."

"We're not gonna start an international incident over someone not even the Chi-comms care about," Casey said, a glint in his eye. "Let it go, Chuck, huh?" And then he left the courtyard altogether.

Chuck spun on her as she wracked her brain for what to say. How could she convince him he had to do this, without the guilt eating at him? She didn't know if she could. "Sarah, this is my fault!" he snapped. "Okay? It's my fault! I screwed up! Her brother's gonna die and it's all my fault!"

"No!" she interrupted. "It's Ben Lo Pan's fault. Triad's fault. And she shouldn't have gone off grid like this. She was disobeying orders from her superiors by coming here."

"Yeah, but her superiors didn't give her any choice! Come on!"

"Chuck, it isn't that simple. In this business, it's _never_ that simple! Choices have to be made. A lot of people were in on the decision not to let that Triad captain go. A Triad captain, Chuck. That's a big deal. Letting a criminal like that go…?"

"So they just let an innocent man die?"

"You make it sound simple…"

"Because it is simple, Sarah. Her brother's on the chopping block and her superiors said, 'CHOP AWAY!' and she's supposed to just stand by and let that happen? That's not what you do. Family is more important than this, than this superspy stuff."

"It isn't just 'superspy stuff'. Don't trivialize how important this work is," she said quietly, calmly, and she found herself feeling a bit ill as she defended the agency she'd been so ready to leave before Bryce sent Chuck the Intersect and trapped her here. No, she wasn't trapped. Not really. She was making this decision...but sometimes it felt like she was trapped. "Hard decisions have to be made every day. And it never gets easy for those of us who have to carry it out. It was...hard for me, too. When I first started. It's...still hard. Honestly." She felt fidgety, saying that out loud. But it seemed to take some of the bite out of the hard look on his face.

"We can't just let this happen. I won't stand off to the side and watch Mei Ling's brother die. If it were Ellie, I'd never obey orders. I'd ditch out on those assholes in a hot second to save her life. I'd do exactly what Mei Ling did." He was almost daring her to challenge him.

But she wouldn't.

"I know you would, Chuck," she said softly. "It's why I'm not just here to protect you. I'm here to protect them, too. Your family. Your people."

"Nobody's protecting Mei Ling's people." There was something in his look, in his tone of voice, that made her wonder if Chuck meant to be the one who stepped into that role. But how did he think he'd ever manage that? She and Casey weren't letting him out of their sight. That much was certain. And she'd make sure Casey was well aware of his duties today at the Buy More.

"Look. Chuck…I know how you feel. I do. Trust me. But this is something you need to understand about...our duties...as intelligence agents. You have to make choices, because you just can't...save everyone all the time. We aren't superheroes."

She turned on her heels and walked away from him, leaving the courtyard but hearing him slowly follow behind. She let her eyes drift shut for a moment and she sighed. She hadn't done what she needed to do. She could feel it. Chuck was still wracked with guilt. And he knew that ambassador, Mei Ling's brother, would likely die. It would fall on his shoulders, as unfair as that was. And she didn't know how she and Casey were going to handle the fallout.

}o{

Chuck was sitting at the Nerd Herd desk thinking about that morning, and considering eating his cheeseburger. If it had been Ellie that had been captured… He shook his head. He had to convince Sarah to do something to help. He had to. He couldn't let Mei Ling's brother die. He had to do something. He took a bite of his cheeseburger and as if on cue, the phone rang. He looked at the phone. It never failed; take a bite of food, phone rings. Customer service 101. He decided he would answer the phone and then figure out what to do about Mei Ling's brother after he solved the next computer crisis...probably a virus hidden in porn downloaded from the Internet.

"Nerd herd. Bartowski speaking," he said without the usual cheeriness in his voice.

"I'm looking at you right now," the female voice said.

Chuck began to laugh. He had heard them all. "Oh, you're looking at me right now," he mocked. "Hehhehhehhehheh. Who is this?"

"Let's just say you owe me," the voice replied. "For ruining my rescue operation."

Chuck had opened his mouth to take another bite, thinking it was a prank call and not worrying about good customer service. His hand froze when he realized what that meant. "Mei Ling," he said softly. He needed Casey. "Mei Ling," he said a bit more forcefully, turned, snapped his fingers and waved his hand at Casey.

"Put your hand down," she hissed at him. Chuck dropped his hand immediately. "If you signal your friend, it's the last thing you'll ever do. By the way, nice mustard stain."

Chuck glanced down. Damn it, there was a mustard stain. He had to keep her on the phone. They bugged the calls, right? Someone would trace it...right? "What can I say, I love mustard on my burger. Who doesn't?"

"I didn't call you to talk about your questionable food choices," she replied.

"Okay, okay, but was that really necessary? I thought we were trying to have an open dialogue," Chuck replied, looking around. There was silence so he continued. "Where are you?"

"Not near the sorority girls looking at the Kelly Clarkson display," she replied.

"Two things: one, that's oddly specific, and two, I don't see you as a Kelly Clarkson fan."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Mei Ling asked.

"I don't see one of China's top spies as someone who'd have a lot of time to follow music," Chuck said, still scanning.

"What do you know about top spies and their music tastes?"

"More than you'd probably believe," Chuck muttered. "What exactly do you want?"

"The Triads put a clock on my brother's life. He dies in nine hours if I don't do something."

No. This was exactly what Chuck was worried about. "Okay, yeah, about that. About that. Listen, I'm really, really sorry. And if there's anything that I can do to make up for it…"

"Help me rescue him," she demanded.

It was at that moment, Morgan showed up with his fabulous Morgan timing. "I'm a dead man," Morgan said, nearly making Chuck jump through the roof. "Dude, I'm in last place in the sales competition. If you do not help me, I am gonna get fired."

"One word to him and you're a dead man, too," Mei Ling said.

How was she doing this? "Not now, Morgan, please. I have a really, really upset customer." Morgan started to say something, but Chuck pointed away and made a noise, "Dit!" Morgan walked off, throwing his hands in the air.

"Listen to me. Listen to me," Chuck pleaded whispering. "I'm a good samaritan. Seriously, I just made a mistake. It could have happened to anyone. I saw a guy in a wheelchair, and thought, you know, he needed to get away from all the shooting. I just helped the wrong guy. I help people run computers, not rescue operations. But I know some people—"

She cut him off. "I tailed you and your handlers. You have a team watching your every step, which means you can help, and you will."

"So you do know about spies and their music tastes," Chuck groused.

"I'll be in touch soon," she said and he heard a dial tone.

"Hello? Hello…" Chuck noticed Casey walk by and hung up. "Want a hot dog?" Casey gave Chuck a look. "It's an emergency." Casey raised an eyebrow and Chuck rolled his eyes. "It has nothing to do with loading the clown into the cannon."

Casey shook his head. "You're weird, Bartowski," and with that Casey headed to the Wienerlicious.

"I swear he sets me up every chance he gets," Chuck said to no one, and then headed to the Wienerlicious. Chuck walked in and saw Casey ordering. Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. "I had a cheeseburger earlier."

"I can tell, you have a mustard stain on your tie," she replied. "Ever think maybe I'd want one?"

Chuck blinked. "It was a fast food one Morgan grabbed me, not a good one," he replied.

Sarah studied him and nodded. "Only the best for me, huh, Chuck?" Casey gave Chuck a look, heard him mutter, "too easy," and turned away. Chuck went to the table, not sure what to say.

Casey took his food and sat down at the table, and Sarah came to join them. "So, listen, I've been thinking a lot about last night. And, you know, you guys were talking about how the spy could be valuable to us." As he spoke he kept looking at Sarah, her face cool, stoic. She was giving away no hints, her spy face was working perfectly. Chuck wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing, or getting in a ton of trouble. Either way, there was a top secret Chinese spy watching him. "So, I was thinking, she might not be very happy right now with her government. She might be really pissed they're gonna let her brother die. What if we could convince her to, I don't know, like, uh, give up some secret stuff…"

"You mean defect?" Sarah said, in a tone and look he couldn't read. She had told him he couldn't save them all, and she was right, he couldn't...but they could. Was she mad because he hadn't listened? This could be bad.

"Defect! Yes! People do that kind of thing all the time, right?" His face was pleading with her, but she was giving away nothing...except she might be a hair, and by a hair he meant majorly, pissed. She gave the smallest nod, either she was agreeing with him, or she was thinking of all the ways to yell at him. He prayed it wasn't the latter, but was pretty sure it was. He pressed on, playing dumb. "The Hunt for Red October. White Nights? White Nights— Gregory Hines, Baryshnikov, dancing their way to freedom." He used his fingers to simulate the dancing.

The look on Casey's face said he might have gone too far. "Well, as long as you've done serious research on the subject," Casey quipped while chewing on his corndog. Sarah glanced at Casey. Chuck was pretty sure he had that look figured out. It was either, "Do you want to kill him or me?" Or it was, "How are you eating that? I cooked it." Casey continued on. "You get her to defect, I'll help rescue her brother personally."

"Why are you bringing this up?" Sarah asked in a direct clipped voice.

Shit. Well, it had been nice not being in a bunker. He couldn't look her in the eye, and that was a bad sign. "Well, she sort of... just... called me."

Casey swallowed. Sarah had a look on her face of...well...it was either, "YOU IDIOT!" or "I MAY KILL YOU!" or "DID YOU HEAR NOTHING I SAID?" or something to that effect.

"She called you?" Casey asked. "Where?"

"At the Buy More," Chuck replied. Casey stopped chewing and stared at him. "I think she might've been in the store, too, because she knew my every move." He held up his tie. "She even knew that I had mustard on my tie." Casey and Sarah sprinted out of the Wienerlicious. "What? Hey, where are we... Wait a minute!" Chuck followed them to the Buy More.

"What were you thinking?" Sarah hissed at him.

"I was thinking of doing things in a way that made both of us happy," Chuck replied. Sarah just stared at him. "Why do I think you're not happy?"

She stared at him for a second, and he couldn't read what was on her face. "Real observant, Chuck, go over there with Morgan where I can keep an eye on you." Her tone made it clear it wasn't a request, but that had never stopped Chuck before.

"Sarah—"

"Chuck, I don't have time for this. Go."

Chuck walked over to Morgan, who was looking depressed. "Hey! Hey, Morgan... Hey, buddy. Listen, I'm really sorry about last night. I got home really late."

Morgan waved it off. "Yeah, don't sweat it, man. It's just my livelihood at stake."

Ouch. Chuck had to do something. "What about tonight? Maybe after Mother's Day."

"Working a double shift, you know. It's my last chance to kind of make enough sales to, uh, not get fired. Thanks, though, pal." Morgan patted his shoulder and walked off, leaving Chuck feeling helpless and he wondered what else could go wrong.

That's when Jeff walked up, and Chuck didn't notice him. "Chuck." Chuck screamed in surprise. "There's a delivery of hard drives in the storage cage you need to sign for."

Chuck was trying to calm down so no one would notice his edginess. "Great. Thank you... Jeff." Jeff gave him a look. Seriously? Jeff could tell he was nervous? Chuck headed toward the storage cage. He opened the door, walked into the back room, and started looking for the delivery. He saw the delivery person in the back. "Oh, hey, I think that's for me." Mei Ling spun around, a gun under her clipboard. "Please tell me that's not real. The gun, not the clipboard."

She stuck it into his stomach as he raised his hands. "Real enough?"

Chuck began pleading. He wasn't too proud to admit it. "Listen, listen, they agreed to help if you would just defect."

She gave him a look like he was an idiot. "What?"

Chuck hurried on, seeing that she wasn't thrilled with the idea. "It's really not that bad here, you know. You're pissed at your government. The Chinese food's pretty good. Have you tried sizzling shrimp? You can also listen to Kelly Clarkson without too much judgment."

It was in that moment that Casey and Sarah stormed the room. "Drop the gun! Drop it!" Casey yelled. Mei Ling spun Chuck and put the gun to his head.

"Let go," Sarah said, her face stone. She was wearing her mask again, but he could see a thread of fierceness there.

"Shoot me, I shoot him," Mei Ling spat back.

"Hey, hey, I got an idea," Chuck began, trying to figure some way out of this. "How about a new plan that involves less shooting. Casey...Casey. You agreed to help if she defected, right?"

Both agents continued to have their weapons pointed at Mei Ling. "I would never!" she said emphatically.

"Why? Too much loyalty to your government? The same one that left your brother for dead?" Casey asked.

Chuck thought Casey might have hit a nerve, but couldn't tell because Mei Ling was behind him. "If I defect, I can never go back to China. I will never see my brother again."

Chuck closed his eyes and prayed. This had to work, because if not…..Sarah was going to be real mad if he got shot, and Ellie...Oh, God! She would kill him, and if he was killed, Ellie would dig up his body and kill him again. "And if you don't, you'll lose him forever. And you don't want that." They locked eyes, and Chuck saw her wavering. "This isn't the first time you've ignored your government, is it?" Her eyes widened, but not as much as Casey and Sarah's. He was hoping that what he flashed on was right. "Those kids, three years ago, you saved them. The government said no. The family wasn't rich enough, not influential enough, but you did it anyway, didn't you? Those families were just poor, regular people, not worth making waves over, and it just didn't sit right with you, did it?" She said nothing. "Casey and Sarah get that."

Mei Ling, Casey and Sarah all locked eyes. Casey gave the slightest of head nods, as did Sarah.

"God, country, family," Casey said. "But sometimes the country fucks things up."

"You can say that again," Sarah muttered.

"And seriously, ask Sarah, you can listen to Kelly Clarkson without being mocked," Chuck added.

Mei Ling shot Sarah a look. "How would I know?" Sarah replied. Casey gave her a look. "Fine. I liked Breakaway."

"From The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement?" Mei Ling asked. Sarah nodded, giving Chuck a dirty look. He was gonna pay for that later, but right now, he had an in.

"Guys, promise Mei Ling you'll help rescue her brother if she defects. Please." Neither Casey or Sarah moved. WHAT THE HELL?! "Please?" he asked more insistently.

Sarah never moved a muscle to speak. Chuck was confused. "Promise," Casey said. "Now let the kid go."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Mei Ling asked.

Sarah stared at her. "You don't have any other choice." Mei Ling pushed him forward, knocking Chuck to the ground. Sarah and Casey lowered their weapons, and Chuck wondered how much trouble he was in.

}o{

She watched Chuck go into his and Ellie's apartment. It had been a quiet ride back from the Buy More. Well, Chuck was quiet, Mei Ling and Casey were talking. They were going over ideas for how to get her brother out, Chuck was staring at his feet, and Sarah was sitting beside him, stewing. She didn't say anything, but she really didn't have to. She felt him looking and glanced at him. He mouthed, "I'm sorry." She gave a quick shake of her head, and he dropped his head again. She caught a look from Casey in the rearview mirror and wasn't sure what that was about.

How the hell had he known that about Mei Ling? Had he flashed and not told them…?

Or was it something else?

"How about you go inside, and let me talk to my partner for a second?" Casey suggested to Mei Ling. "And don't touch anything." She gave him a look, nodded and went in. Casey turned toward Sarah. He was silent for a second, looked over at Chuck's apartment, and then Sarah saw him reach a decision. "What's got your skirt twisted?"

"I swear to God, I hope one time we have to do a mission at a Drag Show where you have to wear a skirt and heels and have to shave your legs," Sarah retorted. Casey made a face and growled. "He's the problem," she said then. "He doesn't seem to get how important he is."

"When life takes a shit on you, you begin to think you aren't that important," Casey retorted. "Walker, you know him. He'll do anything for family. You can't be surprised. Hell, that was a good piece of spy craft. He turned one of China's best spies. He made her defect. What's really got you torn up?" Sarah looked over at one of cameras in the courtyard. Casey nodded, opened the door, and headed in.

"One sec," he told Mei Ling as he led Sarah to his bedroom.

Sarah raised an eyebrow as she followed him. "And here you've been giving Chuck grief about getting me into his bedroom."

"And you think you aren't funny," Casey sassed. Sarah wondered exactly how much Chuck said about her. He shut the door and flicked a switch. "We're safe, now spill it."

Sarah couldn't tell him everything, but she could tell him some of it, because it was a real concern. "He's not us, Casey. He's taking chances he shouldn't."

"Agreed, but again, we both know that he will do anything…for anyone." Casey studied her a minute. "Walker, what's the problem? We both know you're gonna protect him, and if I have to I will...just don't tell him that."

She looked away. "I won't always be here."

Casey grunted. "Yeah. Because you're gonna listen to Graham when he tells you to go."

She looked at him. "Casey, if that's the order…" She trailed off.

"Walker, you don't even believe that."

"Casey," she said softly. "He deserves a real life, a normal life. The life he had before Bryce sent him that email. He belongs in his life. But that life isn't for people like me. Like us," she added, even though she knew Casey understood full well what was going on in this conversation. And the slightly flat look he gave her really pounded that home. She was only a little uncomfortable. "We know what we've done, seen, what kind of lives we've lived. This? The spy life? It isn't his world."

"Ever thought the kid might want a choice in the matter? Hell, he's not bad at what he does, with a little training—"

"NO!" she said softly but intensely. "Do. Not." Casey nodded. "Now, we have a job."

"Walker," Casey said as she turned. "You know he has to go on missions." She nodded. "I know you'll protect him." She nodded. "I won't let them take him."

She turned back to him and studied him. What was Casey's game? She didn't know at that moment but they did have a mission. "Thank you."

Casey nodded, studied her a second, and then asked what had apparently been bugging him all day. "How the hell did he know that about Mei Ling?"

"He flashed?" Sarah guessed.

Casey groaned and rolled his eyes. "When did he flash, and what made him?"

"All excellent questions," Sarah replied. "I have one better. Why didn't he tell us?"

Casey pointed towards her. "That is a better one. Can I hit him if I don't like his answer?"

"No, because I may." Casey nodded and led her back to the living room where Mei Ling joined them.

He unrolled a map. "This is the floor plan of Ben Lo Pan's estate."

Mei Ling pointed to a spot on the map. "My intel says they're holding my brother here... Near the center of the mansion."

Casey looked at the spot and shook his head. "Getting in is one thing, getting out is going to be the real trick. Lo Pan's got a private army of security guards. When the alarms go, they'll be all over us." He looked over at Sarah. "We need our analyst to see if he can spot anything. Want me to do it?" Sarah nodded. Casey pulled out his phone to call Chuck while Sarah wondered if she could actually keep him safe.

}o{

He had a weird feeling in his gut, and he didn't know why. He'd managed to get everyone everything they wanted in this situation. Mei Ling's brother wasn't going to be left to the wolves because with her, Casey, and Sarah working together, they'd get him out. And U.S. intelligence was getting an incredibly seasoned Chinese spy to defect. And, though this was low on the list, his conscience would be clear.

He wouldn't have to live with Lee Cho's death for the rest of his existence.

So why did something feel...off? Maybe it was everything he'd learned while breaking into the MSS database? Or maybe he just felt like this because he'd gone back into Piranha mode for the first time in years and it didn't sit well with him, doing something that illegal. Especially with two U.S. intelligence agents watching his every move.

Or maybe it was just that he was a few hours away from Mother's Day and he was afraid something would derail it and Ellie would murder him as a Mother's Day gift.

He shivered just as he heard the door open. Grabbing a glass and a bottle of fizzy water, he turned and grinned at his sister coming in, arms laden with groceries. "Heeeey, what up, sis?"

"Oh, good!" She looked relieved to see him there and he wondered how much of her thought he wouldn't be here for this, that he'd miss it. That had never been something she'd been afraid of before. And the thought that she was afraid of it this time around bummed him out. "Did you remember to defrost the chicken?"

"You know that I did!" He made room for her to put the bags down as she came around into the kitchen. "And you know why? Because it is Mother's Day and I am here for _you_ ," he said emphatically.

"The prodigal brother returns!" she announced and he giggled as she seemed to struggle a bit with the bags.

"Need some help?"

"Yes, please! Thanks!" she chirped, and he laughed, grabbing a bag and setting it on the counter for her. She was brimming with excitement, relief, almost even a bit bouncy, and he loved her a lot in that moment. His big sister. Forever his protector and biggest supporter.

He found himself chuckling at the big smile on her face.

"So this'll be fun," she drawled, "just you and I." She turned and looked up at him. "It's been a while."

"It's been _too long_." He shrugged. "But tonight is all about brother-sister bonding, you know, catching up. Catching up," he repeated, emptying the bag, "by the way, with no distractions." And just as he said that, he heard his phone ringing.

 _Fuck._

He took his phone out as he shut the fridge. It was Casey. The op was tonight. They were saving Lee Cho. Shit. Shit shit. Shit. "And as soon as I answer this call, I will turn it off," he promised Ellie, pointing down at his phone. He brought it to his ear, answering. "Hello…"

"It's Casey. Get over here. Wanna see if you flash on anything." Chuck winced. God damn it. Damn it. Damn it damn it. He didn't respond, knowing Casey didn't need one. And he figured Casey had probably already hung up anyway, so he just hit end and lowered his phone.

The look on Ellie's face wasn't fun. And she waited there expectantly, hand on her hip. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Nothin', it's Casey. John Casey, my coworker. He needs some help with um...uh...decorating tips." He made a _what can ya do_ face.

But Ellie just narrowed her eyes and curled her lip a bit. "Like...color swatches? I could help with that."

"No, no, no!" He rushed out, crossing the kitchen as she continued emptying the bags. "You don't wanna—No, that's very thoughtful of you. I really appreciate that. But he's a guy's guy. You know? He wants a _man's_ opinion…" He rolled his eyes dramatically. "He's a … hunter." What the hell? "So he's really into hunting. And...he doesn't quite know which...deer...to mount...on…" He wasn't even finishing that. What in the hell was wrong with him?

"Ew!" Ellie groused, walking past him. "Well, you have a couple of hours before dinner, so… And I need to focus in the kitchen anyway."

Chuck blinked. "You sure?"

"Yeah! Oh! You know what?" She dug in the fridge and stood up with a bowl in hand. "Why don't you take him some of my special guacamole? You know? Like, as a housewarming gift?"

"That—Wow. Thank you, Ellie. That's so nice of you. Thanks." He turned to follow as she crossed the kitchen and started piling chips in the bowl, peeling the foil off from the guacamole. "And please, make sure he eats it and you don't bring any of it back. I made way too much and I kinda can't stand the sight of it anymore. At least not for a few months."

Chuck laughed and nodded. "Sounds good." She handed it over. "Okay. I promise I will be back by eight. I promise."

He dashed out of the kitchen, went to the door and opened it, walking into the courtyard. He waited for the door to shut before he cursed. This was the feeling. The bad feeling. Part of him had known there might be an interruption.

Chuck knocked on Casey's door. It swept open immediately. "Hey, hi...Okay, no greeting, that's fine." He stepped inside as Casey just walked away, further into the eerily dark room. "I brought Ellie's secret recipe, guys, if anyone...uh…"

He shut the door as Casey walked right back to the board they must have set up in the last four hours since they'd left the Buy More early to plan. He saw the blueprints laid out. Mei Ling stood at the board, Sarah at a computer, the blue glow from the screen lighting her face as she lifted her gaze to him. She wore that mask still, and he thought he was still in trouble. As much as he respected her, that bullshit about not saving everyone was just that: bullshit. Maybe they couldn't save everyone, but what was the point of all of this if they didn't even try?

"Just tryin'a help out the mission in any way that I can," he chirped, coming in to set the guacamole down. "Sarah? You want, uh…?" He pointed at it and she didn't respond. "Mei Ling? Casey? Listen, guys, I can't stay," he finally said when none of them answered.

"There are at least ten guards we know of stationed at these points here…" Casey pointed to the map on the board, completely ignoring Chuck. "Here...and here."

"The security cameras are TKS50s. They're a little outdated but they're equipped for mode access," Sarah said, turning to face the board as well. Chuck gaped a little at her. Because as much as he knew now wasn't the time for this, he found it sort of made him hot under the collar hearing her talking about TKS50s and mode access and...he really needed to focus here. Why'd they need him for this? "Either of you familiar with them?" Sarah continued, turning to Mei Ling and Casey.

Neither of them seemed to be.

So he raised his free hand. "Uh, I am." They all gave him surprised looks. "Yeah! We, uh, we used to sell them at the Buy More. Did a bunch of installs a few years back. They're pretty easy to access," he said with a shrug. And he didn't realize until later that he probably should've kept his damn mouth shut.

"Good," Mei Ling said. "Every warm body helps."

And there came the realization. "I'm sorry?" He gaped. "Me? No, no, no, no… as much as I wish that I could help you," and he really did, he really really did, but he just couldn't do this tonight, he couldn't, "I can't. I made plans with my sister. Those are non-negotiable. Seriously. No."

He wasn't budging, either. Even with the way Mei Ling gave him a hard stare, Casey crossing his arms… Sarah lowered her chin and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Why was she smiling a little? He knew. He knew why. When they stood in that courtyard together, he made a point of going on and on about how guilty he felt because this was all his fault. He raised his voice at her, trying to protect Lee Cho after he let Ben Lo Pan get away with him in his trunk.

Sarah knew exactly what she was doing. But she really didn't know how bad the consequences would be for him if he wasn't back here by eight. She couldn't have even a semblance of a clue.

"But of course," he said, his voice serious, measured, "I know you wouldn't even be in this mess in the first place if it weren't for me. I wanna be with my sister, and you...obviously wanna be with your brother. We're like...one big wacky...transatlantic family." He chuckled but got nothing out of anyone else. "I owe you. I'm in."

"Okay. Fine," Sarah said, as if she hadn't just been giving him that look a few moments earlier. "But you don't leave the van under any circumstances."

"I just need to be home by eight. If that's at all possible."

"Don't get your undies in a twist, Chuck. We'll have you home for your little sibling dinner," Casey said as Sarah climbed up from her chair and shrugged her jacket on. Mei Ling and Casey started gathering their things as well.

"My undies are just fine, thank you. I'm just—It's very important I don't miss this. It's a special date we never miss, Ellie and I."

"Listen, kid. We miss it, we miss it. You wanted to do this, so we're doin' it." Casey threw a bag at him. "Carry that, will ya? And take the chips and guac to go. Ain't lettin' that go to waste."

Sarah spared him one quick look, he noticed, as they all swept out into the courtyard past him, and he still wasn't all that sure she didn't currently hate him for his antics today.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time….SC does Mother's Day. Get your feels ready, seriously, I wasn't prepared.

Leave us reviews. Thanks!


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters, we aren't making any money from writing this.

* * *

He had been quiet the entire ride to the mission site, and she felt just the tiniest bit guilty...just the tiniest bit. She knew Chuck was going through a lot, and she and Casey weren't helping. Morgan apparently was on the verge of getting fired—she had overheard that today—and he and Ellie were supposed to be doing something special, what she wasn't so sure. That was what she felt guilty about. What she did not feel guilty about was the look she gave him at Casey's. He had ignored her this morning in the courtyard, he had either flashed or found out information on Mei Ling some other way and hadn't told her or Casey. That was going to have to be dealt with. But the thing that had irked her the most was what he had said in the courtyard: "Family is more important than this...than this super spy stuff."

That had hit her right in the gut, because she was a damn hypocrite and she knew it. She joined the CIA to save her dad, she had saved a baby she didn't even know because….because it was the right thing to do. And right now, right now she would be on some other mission and Chuck would be in a bunker if she had just not said no. Chuck Bartowski was right, and she agreed with him, so the question became, who was her family? And that bothered her. That bothered her more than she ever was willing to let on or talk about. She knew the second he started talking in Casey's that he was going to help, even before he did, because that was Chuck Bartowski. She knew it, and she wanted him to know she knew it. And what Casey had said….or what he hadn't said….God…. _An easy assignment, huh, Graham?_

Chuck was driving the van and the three spies were in the back, ready to jump out as soon as they reached their destination. Casey gave her a look to see if she was ready. Sarah nodded. He was a good partner. That should bother her, but she found he was the first partner she could remember that wasn't trying to sleep with her, or one-up her. Sure his jokes and little comments drove her batty some days, but Casey wouldn't leave her behind or one-up her to look like the better agent. The van slowed and the three spies jumped out, scaled the wall, and split up. Mei Ling was in charge of the feedback loop, Casey was responsible for hooking Chuck up to the cameras, and Sarah was in charge of initial ingress. There was a little bit of chatter on the line and finally Chuck yelling they had a picture.

Sarah knew she had to get across how serious this all was. She found a camera and looked into it. She knew he did better when he could see how serious she was. "All right, listen, the guards are looking at a static loop. You're our eyes, Chuck. If you see any trouble coming, you let us know."

She took off, and heard his response. "Got it. Let's just make this quick. 7:15's my curfew."

She shook her head. She didn't know what this dinner thing was with Ellie but it had to be huge. "Okay, we're going inside," she replied. She made her way in as she heard Casey and Chuck speak on the system, but she tuned them out. Apparently Casey took one out a little viciously because she heard the two of them banter back and forth. She was almost to the kitchen.

"Okay, okay. I've got, I've got three guards in the kitchen area," she heard Chuck say over the ear piece.

There they were, big guys too. "We see them," Sarah responded.

"Be careful," Chuck said, making her smirk. She knew it wasn't because she was a woman, or that he didn't think she could win the fight, it was because he truly cared. "They're-they're bigger than the first guy," he added. Sarah watched Casey give hand signals. He and Mei Ling took out the first two, and Sarah caught the third from behind. Chuck began rattling on again, and Casey quipped back at him. The three slowly moved toward their target area, when Chuck cut in, sounding frantic. "Wait, hey, hey, hey, what happened? I-I lost all visual on the security cameras. Guys? Guys? All I can see is what Casey's lipstick camera is picking up."

The three had reached their destination when they heard Chuck's pleas. Ben Lo Pan was alone at his desk and a glance from Casey told her they were going with the plan.

"Put down the book, Ironside," Casey said, his gun pointing towards him. "Hands up." He closed the book, smirking. God, she hated a smirker. She heard doors opening, guns cocking, and she knew it was a trap.

Chuck's voice squawked over the coms. "Guys, if you're seeing this, you might want to run." They were surrounded by the men with guns.

"You think?" Casey grumbled.

Ben Lo Pan rolled toward them looking very happy with himself. "Perfect timing, Mei Ling," he began, sounding like one of those stupid villains in those movies she watched with Chuck. "Your government has just refused my final offer for your brother." The goons with the guns pushed Mei Ling's brother over to her. He fell and she quickly helped him up. "Hopefully they will change their minds, now that I have two American agents to barter with."

The men took her earpiece and Casey's lipstick cam. They were in trouble. This was an unsanctioned mission. There was no backup. The only person that knew they were here was Chuck, and he could not get involved. If he got involved, and kidnapped...Oh God, what they would do to him if they figured out he was the Intersect? She was being led out when she glanced over at the van. She thought she saw something in the driver's seat. She probably didn't. She was sure she didn't, but maybe she did. She and Casey shared a glance, and he nodded. Sarah took off, getting the goons to chase her. Casey spoke quietly into his watch. Sarah had no idea what he said but he had to get the message across. It was bad enough what was going to happen to her and Casey, maybe Chuck could get away. A bunker was better than what they'd do to him. She hoped he really got to live his life.

}o{

The voice came through the van. "Chuck, it's Casey. Don't talk. I can't hear you. Go home. Repeat: Go home. Do not call the cops; don't do anything. Go home."

Go home. That's what he was supposed to do. That's what a good asset would do. That's what a good Intersect would do. That wasn't what he was gonna do, and he knew it meant missing Mother's Day with Ellie. He knew, but he had no choice. She took an oath, first do no harm...and if he left Casey and Sarah here there would be all kinds of harm. He wouldn't be doing the harm, but it would be his fault because he didn't do something. He had to do something, but he was told not to. But he should. He needed to. He wanted to. They told him not to...he was spiraling.

He yelled for Casey a few times with no answer. He noticed the white van with the Bamboo Dragon logo pull away, and then Chuck….well, he began to talk to himself. "They're taking them to the Bamboo Dragon." What should he do? Go home. That's what he should do. Oooooorrrrr… "Okay, okay. All right." He put the van in drive and began to tail the van. Wasn't it vans that did the tailing? Was it okay to trail a van? Had he broken a spy rule? "What are the rules for tailing? Tail rules. 30... 30 yards. Or was it 30 feet? I should've taken notes."

They arrived at the Bamboo Dragon and Chuck parked the van where Casey had the night before. He looked around to see if anyone was watching….Who he was looking for he had no real idea. Ninjas? Spies? Those two particular groups of people tended to blend in so if he did see them would he even know he was seeing them? Spiraling! He tried to walk inconspicuously while power-walking, which was next to impossible. He went down an alley to get to the back of the Bamboo Dragon the way Morgan had shown him and peaked in the window. The four captives were being placed in the freezer.

This was not good, this was not good. How long did they have? How long until things began to freeze? It was then his phone rang, pulling him from the door. He scurried away, seeing it was Ellie, and he sent it to voicemail. "Ellie's going to kill me," he muttered. "Sorry." He looked up, helpless, and saw Morgan's fireworks dealer. An idea came to him. An all-time stupid one, but an idea all the same. He ran up to the dealer.

"How much for everything?" Chuck asked.

"Dude!"

"Seriously, I don't have time to bicker, or haggle. I need those fireworks, please."

The dealer grinned. "$400.00"

"FOUR HUND—four hundred," he said, lowering his voice. "I don't have that kind of money."

The dealer grinned. "You work at the Buy More, right?" Chuck nodded. "The next two years you fix my computer for free."

"You're the one that has all the viruses, aren't you?" Chuck asked, hating his life right now. "Labor only, you've gotta buy the parts."

"You buy the parts, sell them to me at cost," he countered.

Chuck dropped his head. He really hoped Sarah and Casey appreciated this. "I don't know if I can get them for cost, but I'll buy them using my discount, it's the best I can do." The dealer held out his hand. Chuck sighed, and shook his hand. The dealer started to unpack his bag, when Chuck shook his head. "Nope, I need that to carry them." The dealer shrugged, handed Chuck everything and took off. He got everything together, took it over to the Bamboo Dragon van, and tried to mentally prepared himself.

"Please let me keep my fingers." Yep, that was all he had. He lit the fuse, put the firework in the bag, the bag in the front seat of the van, ran away, and hid. The fireworks were a sight, and for a second he got why Morgan loved them so. Goons ran past him quickly to see what was going on and Chuck snuck in. He opened the freezer door, and Casey came out ready to attack. Chuck made some noises he didn't even know how to describe. "Come on. Come on," he said. Sarah had a look on her face, and Chuck decided to preempt what was about to happen. "You can yell at me later." She gave him a quick glare and then a thankful look. Chuck helped free everyone and the three spies ran off. He turned to Mei Ling's brother. "This is the part where we hide."

He nodded.

The two of them hid and watched their own version of a kung fu masterpiece, Chuck adding sound effects and judo chops where needed, safely hidden away. A wheelchair came past them, and Chuck remembered that old saying, in for a penny in for a pound. "Ben Lo Pan's getting away," he said quietly. He turned to his fellow hider. "Wait here, wait here." Chuck grabbed the wheelchair just before he made it to the doors. "Forget it, Ben," Chuck said, holding onto the wheelchair. "It's Chinatown." He bent down to Ben Lo Pan. "You ever see that movie?"

The sounds of fighting ended and Sarah and Casey came running up to him.

Casey looked at Ben Lo Pan and then Chuck. "There is so much I could say."

"Don't," Sarah said. "Just...don't." She gave Chuck a look, turned and walked away.

"She's really not happy with me, is she?" Chuck asked.

"Not getting into that," Casey said, taking Ben Lo Pan before Chuck accidentally helped him escape again.

Chuck found himself standing in front of the door by himself. "Go team."

}o{

The living room was dark as he stepped inside at nearly two in the morning, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Because he wanted to apologize, but he was also somewhat afraid of the Ellie he'd be faced with after he missed their Mother's Day.

But as he locked the door and turned to head into the kitchen for some kind of sustenance, even if it was the middle of the night, any semblance of an appetite died. Because there was his sister, fully alert, awake, but sitting in the dark with a cup of tea and a look on her face that made his soul ache.

It wasn't fury. There wasn't even much anger there.

He'd hurt her by missing Mother's Day. And he could see the hurt in her face, in the slump of her shoulders, the way she rolled her green eyes slowly up to meet his brown ones. The fact that she'd left the light off and was just sitting in the dark, dunking her teabag in the hot water… Had she waited up all this time?

Shit, he felt awful. He felt so awful.

He slowly walked over to turn on the lamp behind the couch, shedding a bit of light on the room as she stared at him wordlessly. She looked so tired and sad. Frustrated and tired and sad. He was the worst person on the planet. And the worst brother. Ever.

"Ellie," he said quietly, hearing his own hurt in his voice. "Ellie, I am so so so so so so so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am." He closed the distance fast, infusing his words, his face, with sincerity. He needed her to know how sorry he was.

She rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the counter. And she didn't say anything for a few uncomfortable seconds, looking down at the mug in front of her. Finally, she lifted her eyes back to his and shrugged, looking like she was almost trying to suppress the upset she felt. "What happened...Chuck?" The way she tacked on his name after a brief pause, the extra emphasis on the click of the 'ck' at the end of his name… This wasn't going to be easy. Not because she wasn't a forgiving sister. It wasn't that.

He and Ellie had gone through so much together. And they would continue to be there for one another. For the rest of their lives. He knew that. She would forgive him for this. She wouldn't punish him for it. But she was so filled with sadness and disappointment, hurting bad enough, that he felt so much worse than if she'd been angry and slammed a door in his face. He was _the worst person on Earth_.

"What...Were you kidnapped or something?" she mocked, folding her arms at her chest and hugging herself a little. "I mean...the way you didn't even answer my calls or texts all night. A girl could get to thinking her brother got into some trouble."

He shut his eyes tightly. No. He hadn't been kidnapped. But an ambassador had. And he'd had to help said ambassador's sister rescue him, and then Sarah and Casey had been in serious danger… Chuck knew he could never have left them. Not for anything in the world. And he didn't regret the sacrifices he made to get those fireworks from that God damn swindler. Nor did he regret that both of his intelligence agent protectors were alive and safe. There would be a rough parting between Mei Ling and her brother in the morning. He found himself hoping he wouldn't have to be there for it.

This whole thing was hitting a bit too close to home.

And now with him having missed Mother's Day…

"No answer?" Ellie prompted. "That's fine. I've gotten used to that with you tonight."

Chuck winced. "I deserved that."

"Yep."

"I-I wasn't kidnapped. But I had to...help...a friend."

"Casey?" she asked. He just stared at her, his brow furrowed. "Before you answer that, you should know I went across the courtyard and knocked on the door to see if I could help when you didn't respond to my first text. Turns out there were no color swatches or...deer heads to mount… Because nobody was freaking there. Not you, not Sarah, not Casey. Nobody was there, Chuck. So are we lying to each other now? Is that what's going on?"

"No. God, no." He made an anguished face that reflected his insides and sat down across from her.

"Well, when did we start keeping secrets from one another? Whatever it was you had going on tonight, whether it was with Sarah or...I don't know what… all you had to do was say it. Would I have been happy about it? I mean, no, probably not. But at least I would know you're still being honest with me. That you trust me with the truth." She shook her head and looked away.

"I do. I do trust you, Ellie. And I am...I am...honest." That got him a flat look that he rightly deserved. "Look, if-if you'll just let me...let me explain—"

"There's no need. I spent a few hours sitting here staring at multiple cups of chamomile that I only half finished, just...thinking. And I figured it out." Chuck frowned in question. "I know."

He gaped. She couldn't...She couldn't know. Not that. She couldn't know he was working for the CIA, that Sarah was actually a CIA agent and that Casey worked with the NSA. She couldn't know about the Intersect. She couldn't know any of that, right? That would be crazy…

"You haven't had a girlfriend in a really long time. Not a real one, at least."

"Oh," he breathed, letting his head fall forward so she couldn't see the relief.

"And I'm not trying to embarrass you with this, Chuck, but I get that things are new and exciting with Sarah, and that you really, really like her. I can tell. Not just because you go off and miss dates with me and your best friend to spend time with her, but the way I've seen you look at each other when you're both here… I know how great of a feeling that is." She licked her lips as he felt a deep pit of regret opening wider and wider in his chest. "I don't blame you for wanting to spend all of your free time with Sarah. That's how things were with me and Devon."

Chuck smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. I remember."

"Do you also remember that I didn't ice you to hang out with him, though? Or...maybe I did a few times. But I at least talked to you, I told you the truth. I was honest."

He swallowed thickly. "Yeah. I know. And I understood."

"Exactly, Chuck. I'd understand. But you lied to me. About something so stupid."

God, if she could only know how not-stupid it was. If he could only tell her that he'd stopped two people who were important to him—yes, even Casey—from being ransomed to the government, and most likely murdered by Triads. If he could tell her he'd stopped an innocent life from being snuffed out. If he could only tell her he'd kept this country from being caught up in an international incident. That he'd gotten a Chinese spy to defect…

He couldn't. So he had to continue to lie. And that felt worse than anything ever had.

"I'm so sorry. I-I guess I just thought...I thought...Okay, honestly, I wasn't using my head. I wasn't. I thought you'd be pissed if I said I was spending time with my girlfriend and couldn't—couldn't leave her side." At least that much was true. "And it was stupid. It was stupid because I could have just told you the truth instead of pretending I was at Casey's all night. He did eat the guac, though. He said to tell you it's delicious."

She made a face. "Is Casey...like...your weird semi-elderly chaperone or something? What's going on with that?"

He tried not to choke, but he wasn't very successful. "Uh...Uh, no. No, he isn't. But he and Sarah have made friends from...you know, work. And she was there helping him. So I went over to help. And Sarah and I...went off together. She—She didn't know about Mother's Day. I-I mean, I haven't told her what it is. She knew you and I maybe had plans, but I didn't want to...be away from her."

Ellie watched him closely. "Look, lying to me...missing our most important day...Do you even know that Morgan's about to be fired? He came to me tonight and was...desperate. Looking for you, just like I was. And when you don't let even Morgan in on what you're doing, I know it's bad." She shook her head. "I'm not upset that you're spending so much time with Sarah, and I really, really like her. I think she is great. But you—God, this is going to sound so big sister preachy and it'll probably annoy you but whatever, you deserve it tonight. You run the risk of smothering each other if you do crap like this. Canceling plans—or in this case, just turning your phone off without telling anyone where you are when you were supposed to be somewhere else—to be together? Ditching other people in your life? That's not exactly great behavior, or healthy for a relationship, but the _lying_? You can't do that, Chuck." She huffed. "She's your girlfriend. You don't have to sneak or keep secrets. We all know you two are crazy about each other."

Chuck huffed and pushed his hands through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, El, you're right. I don't wanna smother her. You're totally right. It's just … I dunno."

What could he say? How did he respond to any of this without it being bold-faced lies?

"Listen, Chuck. I know that this is the first big thing to happen to you in a while. With Stanford and everything, you sort of slipped into something of a rut. We both know it." He nodded. "And you feel like...your life isn't going anywhere," her voice shook a little, "your job's not either, and you're not Superman out there saving the day…" Chuck looked away. Because she was right about all of it. But he wished he could tell her he was trying to save the day. That he had a team that was doing something to keep people safe. That he was more than...what she saw sitting in front of her.

"But you're a good person, Chuck. You're a good brother. And you're a good friend. Don't lose that. You're more than what you did tonight. You're better than that."

He swallowed and nodded. "I am. You're right. I fucked up and I'm sorry." He paused, his voice coming out quiet and a little broken. "You-You think that maybe we could, uh, reschedule Mother's Day?" The look on her face was clearly a _you sure about that?_ look. "For, like, tomorrow maybe? I know that that is...ridiculously unorthodox. I get that. And I know that it's my fault that we even have to do it, but I—I mean, it is _our_ holiday. So I think we could make up our own rules."

Ellie was quiet for a few seconds, just looking at him. And then he saw a smidgeon of a smile in her face, though she was valiantly attempting to hide it, pursing her lips. "If I say yes, you'll actually be there this time?" she asked, standing up.

"I promise," he said, with an appropriate amount of gravity.

She didn't answer. Instead she crossed her arms and looked down at him knowingly. "You know, if there's something else going on, you can talk to me about it. You know that, right? Anything. Whether it's work, the assistant manager thing...Sarah...life in general? It doesn't matter what it is, you can talk to me, Chuck."

Thousands of things sprang to mind immediately, an overwhelming deluge of things he wished he could talk to her about. And instead of voicing even one of them, he nodded weakly.

She looked unconvinced. She knew something was up. She'd never in a million years guess what it was. But she knew there was something.

And as she smiled and slowly started to move away, he got to his feet to follow her. "Ellie? El…?" She stopped and spun on her heel, looking up at him. She was still so open, so comforting and reassuring, standing there. His big sister. His protector. She was that person he'd always talked to growing up, and he used to be able to talk to her about anything. But he couldn't talk to her about...that. Only Sarah. Sarah was it, for most everything.

But for this...maybe for this…?

"I really, really like being around her. And not just...it isn't even fully an attraction thing. I-I mean, it is. Obviously. She's…" He swallowed thickly and widened his eyes. "Incredibly beautiful." Ellie nodded in agreement. He saw some of that light coming back to her. Probably because he was talking to her. "But I just like her so much, as a person, that I want to spend as much time with her as I can. While I can."

Innocent confusion spread over her face as she crossed her arms. "What do you mean, 'while you can'? Is she moving or something?"

"No, no. Nothing like that." At least...not until they got the Intersect out of his head and she was mercifully released from her duties here. And she went back to her life of spying and adventure. Out there where she belonged instead of here, pretending to be his girlfriend. He couldn't help the spark of bitterness (not at her), but he was human. After all.

"Then what?"

"She is...who she is, Ellie. And there's just this big part of me that can't let go of the fact that she is worth...everything. So much more than me." He ducked his head. "She has to know that, maybe it's deep down inside, I dunno. And eventually, she's going to realize it and that's gonna be that." He cleared his throat, not looking at Ellie, instead gazing off to the side. "I guess I'm just...getting in as much time as I can before that happens. And trust me, I know how it sounds. I just can't help it. She's so much greater than she knows. She's better than she thinks. And I really like her. A lot. And I don't even know what I'm saying."

Ellie made a soft huff sound and gave him a half-smirk, stepping in close and giving him a hug. It was a hug he didn't know he'd needed. But he did need it and he hugged her back so tightly, he thought he might've felt a pop somewhere in her. She didn't seem to mind. "You are so hard on yourself, it hurts me sometimes, brother."

"I know. I can't...help it."

"And you go out and find a woman who's just as hard on herself. Typical Charles Irving."

He chuckled as they broke apart. "Yeah, but the difference is that she's, like…everything a person should be. And she's so nice to be around. Just talking to her sets me at ease, makes me feel good." And he reveled in being able to at least tell Ellie this much that was true. "I dunno, El, she's like...some kind of incredible goddess."

"No. She isn't." He blinked at that and she giggled a bit through her nose. "It's adorable you think that, and I'm sure she'd think so too, Chuck. But she isn't a goddess. We're all human beings. We all have faults. We all have little bits that are broken, or...off-kilter. I'm sure she has them too. Don't treat her like a goddess. Treat her like a person...a person you like a whole lot, even if she sometimes lowers her guard to show you a flaw or two here and there. Maybe even _especially_ then, huh?" She moved in to hug him again. "You're a good guy, Chuck. She knows it. And you need to stop thinking she's so far above you, because then you'll start acting like it, and that's exactly what none of us wants."

He nodded and pulled back. "Yeah."

"You are just agreeing with me even though you probably don't get what I just said." He winced and she giggled. "Chuck, you keep thinking you're nothing—you aren't, at all, you're very much something—but you keep thinking that, you'll start acting like nothing. Lowering yourself to what you think you are. Instead of...being what you actually are, which is the best guy in the world. I know, I'm not making any sense to you. It's like two in the morning and I'm tired and upset." She gave him a look that clearly said _you did this_ and he winced.

"No, I get it. Thanks, Ellie. As always, you give the greatest advice."

"I try." She winked and pat his chest, walking down the hallway to her bedroom and leaving him standing there alone.

He'd somewhat smoothed things over with Ellie, and he still owed Morgan an apology...a big one. But Sarah was still in his thoughts. Maybe she wasn't a goddess per se—she _was_ human, so gloriously human—but whatever she was, she was also pissed at him.

And more than that, contrary to what Ellie knew about why Sarah was here, the fact was that she would be leaving someday. The second the Intersect was out of his head, Sarah would be out of Burbank. He was going to lose that part of his life—a part he'd grown to genuinely depend on. Because he hadn't lied to Ellie about any of that. He really liked Sarah Walker, Agent Walker. And he liked spending time with her more than with...anyone else. And the thought that she'd be leaving...at some point...made him feel the need to be around her, make the most of the time she was near him. Learn about her, remember things...store them away…

He huffed and went to turn off the light. He skipped the fridge and went straight to his bedroom.

He wasn't hungry.

}o{

Chuck stood there watching Mei Ling and her brother hug, knowing that there was another ass chewing coming, a big one. He decided to do the honorable thing: apologize and fall on his sword. He turned toward Casey and Sarah.

"Before you start, numbnuts, we have a problem," Casey began, cutting Chuck off before he could barely do more than open his mouth.

Chuck looked at Sarah and at Casey, they were on the same page with this….oh, shit. "Uh," he began.

"Zip it," Casey said. He poked a finger in Chuck's shoulder. "You had a flash, that you didn't tell us about so one, when was it? Two, how did you flash? And three, why did you keep it from us?" Casey glanced at Sarah and she nodded.

Chuck decided it was time for 90% of the truth. He would do 100 but… "Okay, you know I didn't sleep that night," he said to Sarah. She had her sunglasses on and he couldn't see her eyes, but good lord, was she just gorgeous. Her hair looked like the sun had kissed it, and...he was spiraling. "So I did some research," he turned to Casey so he wouldn't spiral. He caught the ghost of a smile on Sarah's lips… Did she know what she did to him and why he did what he did? SPIRALING! "I flashed."

"You mean to tell me you flashed on Google, but not on the case files?"

"How do I know what makes this thing work?!" Chuck asked, throwing his arms in the air. He knew Sarah didn't, and he doubted Casey understood the technicalities of it. He wasn't even sure the CIA or NSA knew, if he really thought about it. Casey studied him and grunted an approval. "As to why, you two were done with it. You two had your orders and moved on, but...I don't know if you've noticed, I'm not military, or a spy, and I don't always follow orders." Casey grunted. "Casey, you know even at the Buy More I'll do what's best for the customer." Casey nodded. Chuck looked at Sarah. "I thought me saying anything else…." he trailed off and shrugged. "Well, I'm the asset, I'm supposed to do what I'm told. I just...don't...a lot. And I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make your lives harder. I swear."

Casey looked at Sarah and she at him. They both had sunglasses on so he had no idea what they were thinking. He knew he needed to fix all of this. "Look, I'm... I'm sorry, you guys. I know that you wanted me to go home, but I... I just couldn't, you know?"

He turned to Sarah. "I know what you told me in the courtyard, but that's not who I am, and you both know that."

Sarah looked at Casey, and he nodded. "We just turned one of China's top spies. You did that," Casey said.

"And you helped save her brother," Sarah added. "So, good work, Chuck." Chuck grinned. "But," the grin fell off his face, "you need to realize you are more important than any of that."

Chuck nodded. "Then can we discuss the problem we're about to have?"

Casey and Sarah shared a glance. "You flash again and not tell us?" Casey asked.

"Uh, no. Ellie was hurt," Chuck began. Casey scoffed. "You wanna get us caught, then keep having me miss stuff with Ellie." Casey took off his glasses and studied Chuck. "Think about it. I have never missed stuff with Ellie before and she gets I have a girlfriend now, but if you want to blow my cover and have Ellie start digging into things, just keep doing what we're doing."

"Now just wait a second…" Casey began.

"You wanna look my sister in the eye and tell her you're regularly putting her only brother in danger?"

Casey looked at Sarah, and Chuck saw the NSA agent's resolve dim just a bit at the quiet glance she gave him. They both knew Chuck was right. Casey grimaced, and finally spoke. "No," he grumbled.

Chuck couldn't help himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that." Sarah turned away so as not to laugh out loud.

"NO." Casey was glaring at Chuck, but Chuck could also tell he had won that one. He might pay for it later however. "We'll do better, Bartowski."

"Thank you, Casey," he said. He grinned at Sarah and she winked the eye furthest from Casey at him. "Well, I'd better be going. Got my own family reunion to attend."

Mei Ling walked over to them. "Thank you... Chuck."

Chuck ducked his head, and blushed a little. "Oh, yeah, hey... Don't—Don't mention it. You're welcome. Uh, but before you go, would you mind, uh, would you mind signing this?" He held up the Nerd Herd clipboard.

Mei Ling looked confused. "What is that?"

"Oh, it just says that I was off-site fixing your computer and that you're satisfied with the level of customer service I provided." Chuck smiled at her, and Sarah shook her head and rolled her eyes. Casey grunted in amusement as Mei Ling took the pen.

}o{

Chuck walked into the apartment carrying a bottle of wine. He had so much on his mind. He should have told Sarah about Piranha, but he couldn't. It was probably stupid of him not to, but it was his, and he had to have something, because the CIA and NSA was getting everything else about him. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Morgan's voice.

"Hey, Chuck!"

Chuck shut the door and spun around. "Morgan? Morgan, what are you do... Bu-buddy, I know that I haven't been around lately and/or really been the best of friend, but, uh, you know that Ellie and I have…"

Morgan grinned. "Mother's day, man, I know... I get it."

"Okay, hey, it's okay. I invited him," Ellie said from the hallway.

Ellie came and stood beside Morgan and Morgan put his arm around her. Ellie gave him a bit of a look but didn't say anything. "Yeah, yeah, and I told you he's gonna come walking through that door, didn't I? He's such a good kid." Morgan patted Chuck behind the neck as he said it.

"I'm going to get some glasses," Ellie said, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey, Buddy, there's something I need to talk to you about," Morgan began. "And, um, I want to make sure you know I'm not making a play for her or anything—it's your girl, I get it."

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked. "Ellie? She's my sister."

"No, not Ellie," Morgan said waving his hand. "We both know that's inevitable, it's...well, dude, it's Sarah."

"Sarah? Sarah Walker?" Chuck asked, one part confused one part HIGHLY amused.

"Yeah, seems she came into the Buy More to help me with the contest, and bought some things." Morgan was smirking…hard.

"Okaaayy, why the smirk and why would you think she, uh...well, whatever you think?"

Morgan put his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Dude, you know I would never use the beard for evil around you, okay?" Chuck nodded. "She bought systems dude. Gaming systems. Gonna work on those forearms, eh?" Morgan gave a knowing smile and wink and Chuck had to hold in the laughter.

"Which systems?"

"All of them, including a Wii," he said, raising his eyebrows and walking into the kitchen. Chuck watched him go. What the hell was going on?

Ellie came back over to Chuck. "I know what you're wondering."

"There is so much I am wondering, but let's go with what you think," Chuck replied, grinning. Ellie gave him a look. "Apparently Sarah bought some video game systems and now Morgan thinks she has a thing for him."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Sarah found out about the contest and wanted to help. She wanted to have some stuff at her place that you'd like. If anything, it sounds like she's getting serious."

"Whoa," Chuck said, holding up his hands.

"I'll think what I want," she replied grinning. "As for Morgan... We bonded over an 'I miss Chuck' moment."

Chuck grinned at her. "Did you now?" Ellie nodded. "So, uh, where's Awesome?"

"He couldn't get off work." A knock on the door made Ellie grin and point toward the door. "That must be Sarah."

Chuck looked at the door and processed what she said. "What, you invited her, too?"

Ellie headed over to the table. "Well, I mean, she's your new best gal. How could I not?"

Chuck gave her a look. "Ellie, you know you'll always be my best gal."

Ellie turned back to him with a bit of an "ew" look on her face with an eye threatening to twitch. "Don't take this the wrong way, Chuck, but I hope not."

"Morgan, and now Sarah?" Chuck asked, backing toward the door. "It used to be just the two of us."

"Well, we're growing up," Ellie replied.

Chuck opened the door and there was Sarah. "Hey," he said softly. She looked stunning. She was wearing a simple blue top and a pair of dark jeans, and there was something about her that was just exceptionally stunning.

"Ellie invited me," she said, waving to Ellie. "She, uh, insisted that I come."

"Well, we're glad you're here," Chuck replied. "Can I talk to you for a moment? Outside?" Sarah nodded and they stepped out. "So I'm glad you're here, and thanks for helping Morgan, I do hope you expensed your job for what you bought."

Sarah grinned at him. "Well, I am dating a nerd so I figured when we're at my place we needed something to do. Also what kind of girlfriend am I if I don't learn about some of this stuff?"

Chuck grinned at her. "I'll be glad to help you set it up, unless you bought the Nerd Herd plan... then I can send Lester."

She gave him a look. "Oh, you are gonna set it up so we can have a chat about today."

Chuck swallowed. "A...chat?" Sarah nodded. "So you aren't as okay as you pretended you were earlier..." She raised an eyebrow as if to say, _what do you think?_ "Right. Well, by the time you get done, I shouldn't have an ass left so…"

She took his hand, and she looked into his eyes. "Chuck, this isn't a chewing out, but it is me trying to get something through your head. It's not bad, and when it's over, I'm gonna kick your ass at video games."

Chuck pulled back his lips with a smile. "Oh, you are, are you?"

"Yep," she said, walking back in.

"Everything okay?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah, I was just telling him about all the systems I bought today. Thank you for suggesting them," Sarah said.

"I just suggested one, you got all three."

Sarah shrugged. "My last job is paying relocation and I'm just turning it in, so it's no money out of my pocket."

"Good," Ellie said. "And Chuck will be glad to help you set them up after dinner."

"I will?" Chuck asked. Ellie gave him a look. Chuck turned to Sarah. "I will," he said, making her giggle. Ellie pointed a fork at him, shook her head and walked off.

}o{

Sarah looked at Chuck. "So, uh, Mother's Day..."

Chuck glanced at her, an unreadable look on his face.

"Yes, Mother's Day. That's right, you don't really know…" Chuck swallowed and looked her in the eye. "Mother's Day is the anniversary of the day our mom...left us. Our dad was here, but he was never really here. So now every year we celebrate the day we learned how to take care of ourselves."

"And rely on each other," Ellie said, bringing a plate of food over. She winked at Sarah and hurried to the coffee table, setting it down, but the CIA agent kept her eyes on Chuck. There'd been a thread of melancholy in his voice, gravity in his face, as he told her about their mom. His dossier hadn't mentioned his parents, except that she knew they weren't around. And now she at least had an idea.

The way he opened up so easily, the way the both of them were inviting her into this tradition after just a few weeks of knowing them, even if she _was_ supposed to be Chuck's girlfriend. These were such good people who deserved better than what they got, than what they were getting. And yet, the way Ellie was just so...present, and glowing, welcoming and kind...and then there was Chuck rushing over to help Morgan grab the drinks he'd mixed for everyone.

Sarah broke her gaze away from Chuck and took the drink Morgan offered. "Thanks very much," she said, smiling at him.

"No, Sarah. Thank _you_." She got his meaning and she ducked her head a bit shyly.

"No worries. Can't let my boyfriend's best buddy lose his job, right?"

Morgan smiled. "Nah, you could'a. But you didn't, 'cause you're pretty cool, Sarah." He clinked her glass with his, then went over to where the Bartowski siblings were setting more snacks down. "Okay, but where are the carbs, Ellie?!" he burst out, plopping down in the chair.

"You're such a mess, Morgan."

Sarah laughed at Ellie's reply and slid in close to Chuck's side as he sat on the arm of the couch. He looked up at her with a smile that reached his eyes. "To old traditions with new friends," he said quietly as Ellie and Morgan quibbled around them.

She lightly touched his glass with hers and bit the inside of her cheek. She could tell by the look he was giving her that he meant what he said and that it had nothing to do with the cover. _New friends…_

For once, she just let the warmth flood through her, wrap her up like a comfortable blanket, and she nodded, bringing her drink up to take a sip. "Oh, Jesus." She coughed a little. "Morgan, what is this?"

Everyone else took a sip and made likewise sounds of disgust.

"What?! It's grape soda and vodka. My favorite!"

"Oh my God, I invite you into my home, for my special holiday with my brother, and you give us poison?" Ellie asked, standing up and grabbing Chuck and Sarah's drinks from them. "This is horrid."

"Hey, what?! Where-Where you going with those? You should all be honored I went into my precious secret grape soda stash for you ungrateful people!" He dashed after Ellie. "No, don't-don't dump it! The sink isn't good enough for the—Ellie, no!"

Sarah giggled, trying to ignore the bad taste of corn syrup and artificial flavoring in her mouth.

Chuck looked around and grinned, "I think we're gonna need some more champagne."

"Uh, yeah. If only to get rid of the taste."

"Yep!" He chuckled.

She bit her lip, then, leaning in close. "So you two usually have the same recipe for Mother's Day? Like how people eat turkey on Thanksgiving every year?"

"Nah, we switch it up. We did a pot roast last year, lasagna the year before...tacos. Chicken and cream sauce spaghetti this time."

She nodded and fixed the hem of her blouse just as Ellie and a glum Morgan came back.

"Here. Gin and tonic for Sarah. Gin and tonic for Chuck. Straight gin for me because I deserve it. And poison for Morgan because he deserves it."

"It isn't poison! It's the drink of the Roman gods."

Sarah giggled. "I mean, they do eat a lot of grapes in the cartoons."

"Yeah, _wine_. Not grape soda."

They sat around the table and ate snacks while the chicken finished baking and the pasta cooking, and when Chuck's sister jumped up to go back to the kitchen, Sarah joined her, forcing Chuck to sit back down with Morgan when he tried to help instead.

"It's all pretty much ready. You didn't have to come help," Ellie said pleasantly, pouring the sauce and chicken over the spaghetti noodles already shining with oil and garlic.

"That's okay. I can maybe mix the salad or something," she responded. Taking Ellie's thank you as getting the go ahead, she went over to the salad and started mixing it. "Uh, thank you, by the way. For inviting me. I mean, for letting me come to this. I didn't know it was so…"

"Depressing?" Ellie teased, smirking at her.

"No. Important." She smiled back, feeling a little shy. "I didn't realize Chuck missed something this big the other night. If I'd known, I wouldn't have...um...monopolized him. I'm sorry if I..."

The brunette bit her lip and stepped a little closer, making Sarah stop. "I don't want you to think that's what I think, Sarah. There's a skip in Chuck's step for the first time in a while. I think you're good for him."

"Thanks. I mean, for saying that." Sarah didn't know what else to say. Was Ellie just making that up to make her feel good? Or was she imagining that about Chuck, about Sarah and Chuck together, because it made _her_ feel good?

"I mean it."

Sarah nodded with a smile. "But I won't let him skip out on this stuff for me anymore. I promise."

The other woman shook her head with a 'pfft'. "Sarah, I don't want you to feel like you have to do that. I'm not lording over this relationship you're in with my brother. I like you. A lot. You're great. And good for him. That's all there is to it."

Ellie winked again and walked out with a hearty, "Dinner is served!"

Sarah stayed in the kitchen for a moment, frozen, watching the doctor laugh with her brother and his friend. And in spite of everything in her telling her to stop, she let Ellie Bartowski's words seep under her skin and make her feel good. Maybe tonight, she could just let things make her feel good. That would be all right, wouldn't it?

Just this one night...

}o{

The night had been fantastic, and Sarah felt like she was really beginning to understand the Bartowskis. What she could not understand is how two people could leave Chuck and Ellie. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. She watched Chuck fiddle with some cords and mutter something.

"You need anything?" she asked.

"Nope," he chirped. "Got it. This is a breeze. I can't believe you got the Wii. It just came out and it had to be expensive." He gave her a grin.

She gave him a smile and shrugged. "Casey and I talked, and Chuck...you were right. We need to protect Ellie, and the best way to do that is to make sure we're not doing something wildly out of character."

"Thank you," he replied, his head behind the TV. "Seriously, PS3, Xbox 360, and a Wii?"

"So, this is gonna be a thing, isn't it?" Chuck raised up slowly, looking at her with complete confusion on his face. "You, and not following my orders?"

Chuck stared at her, and she could see the gears turning in his head. "Listen, I know I can't fight." Sarah nodded. "I know there are skills you and Casey have that I don't have, and frankly will never have. But...Sarah, asking me to leave someone behind...?"

"I know, Chuck. I know. It sucks, it more than sucks, and you have to know that if it were any member of your family, I would never follow that order."

"I know that, Sarah," Chuck replied. "But you have to know...if it was Harry Tang we were ordered to leave behind, even then I wouldn't be able to do it."

She sighed and sat on the bed. "I know," she said. "For the record, if leaving him behind were the only way to save you, I'd do it over and over again."

"I know, because it's your job and you're great at it." The words hit her in the gut. She gave him a look. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Chuck, you are my friend, and I don't have many of those." She had to play this very carefully. He had to know he was important, but they couldn't step beyond that line. "I would do that whether it was part of my job or not."

"As I would for you," he replied.

She shook her head. "You can't, Chuck, you're—"

"Too important," he said, hanging his head. "I get it, the Intersect is too important."

She looked away. Damn it. She took a deep breath. "Did I say anything about the Intersect?" His head shot up. "Chuck, you know I've done things. You know I've killed people." She paused, she had to get this just right. He had to know, but not hope. God, could she pull this off? "If it came down to saving your life, or saving my own...I'd save yours every time. Easy."

"Sarah, don't you know I feel the same way?" The look on his face made something inside of her buzz. "You and Casey do so much good, but you only focus on the bad stuff you've had to do. You two have saved countless lives that never knew they were in trouble. You two put families back together. Sarah, I have info in my brain, I can do some stuff on a computer. You, Sarah Walker, you freaking badass, you can save lives."

"So can you." They stared at each other for a moment. She grinned. "So, this is going to be a thing."

He crossed his arms. "Looks that way."

She set her jaw, knowing she was letting him see too much, and shook her head. "I'm not happy with this, Chuck."

"You're gonna be even less happy when I kick your butt in Mario Party 8," Chuck said, holding up the controller.

She smirked at him. "Oh, I am going to enjoy kicking your ass at these video games, and then telling Morgan all about it."

"Just be careful. You build up your forearms up too much…" Chuck trailed off, grinning.

Sarah made a face. "Ew...just...ew."

Chuck watched her for a second. "Sarah, I promise you, I won't do anything stupid just to do something stupid, but if I can save you or Casey…" He shrugged.

She nodded. "Still not happy, Bartowski."

"Not the first time a woman has said that to me," he groused. Sarah burst out laughing. "Not the first time that's happened either."

After a minute she sobered up, wiped a tear away from laughing so hard, and grabbed the Wii controllers. "Come on, nerd, let's see what you got."

"Well, first off, you're holding the controllers in the wrong hands."

"These are the only hands I have, Chuck," she said, straight-faced. He blinked and then she laughed at him.

Chuck shook his head. "And you said you weren't funny."

* * *

 **A/N:** Review if you want to. Thanks.

-SC and DC


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews. Making our way through Chuck Versus the Sandworm.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. **_We aren't making any money writing this. We are writing it for free. You are reading it for free._**

* * *

The door to the Wienerlicious slammed open, and Sarah jumped. She had a breadstick in her hand ready to throw it straight through the offending party's throat. She took one look at the offending party and realized he wasn't offending at all. However, by the look on his face he needed a hug. She didn't know if she had ever seen him this upset. She found herself wanting to comfort him, but she didn't touch him, although her hand may have drifted in his direction when she leaned across the counter towards him. "What's wrong, Chuck?"

"Let me quit, please," he begged. She searched his face. "Please, Sarah, I know it's part of the cover, but I will do anything else, it's just…." He threw his hands up in disgust. He shook his head, and leaned across the counter, his head close to hers. She found it quite intimate, but she knew he didn't mean anything by it. She couldn't help herself, she dropped her hand on top of his, squeezing it. He looked up at her, and she saw what was written all over his face. He was fed up, and who could blame him? Yesterday he had to hold her back from committing murder after one of Lester's comments. Chuck chewed him out about the way he talked to Sarah and women in general, but she was sure he would ignore it. That was okay, the day was coming he was going to get his. "Just let me quit the Buy More. I'll wear one of those…" he trailed off, searching for the words, waving at the outfit she was wearing. "Whatever they are."

"You haven't got the legs to pull it off, Chuck," Sarah replied, straight face. He stopped his meltdown and looked at her.

"Been checking out my legs, Sarah?" he asked. He turned red the second he said it and had an embarrassed look on his face.

"Chuck, one look at your legs can tell someone they're much too boney to make this look good," she said with a smirk. Chuck laughed, the embarrassed look gone. "Okay, now what is wrong?"

"The Buy More," Chuck said flatly. She gave him a look. "I mean seriously, you want me to tell you which of the crazy things that happen there make me want to quit?"

"Take a seat," she said pointing to a table. She got two glasses of lemonade, walked over, and sat down beside him. "Now, today. What happened?"

Chuck sighed. "I was sitting at the Nerd Herd desk and a customer started asking me questions. I had no idea about the product and looked around for one of the green shirts, and they were all gone."

"Casey's day off?" Sarah asked. He nodded. "So if he's not there…."

"It goes to hell," Chuck said, blowing air out of his cheeks. "Tang doesn't even mess with Casey." Sarah was giving him a sympathetic look. "They were playing mystery crisper." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Morgan takes a bite out of things that were in the crisper of the fridge since...well...forever."

"Why in the hell did I save his job if he's going to die of something he eats out of that fridge?"

"Because you wanted to know what it was like to lose to Chuck Bartowski at video games," Chuck retorted, grinning.

She wadded up a napkin and threw it at his face. He blinked as it bounced off his forehead, still grinning. She returned the grin. "You cheated."

"How did I cheat?" His face tried to convey pure innocence.

"You started telling me the story of how you got a job that Ellie didn't know about just so you could buy Ellie a gift for Mother's Day." Chuck shrugged. She stared at him. "In construction!" Chuck shrugged again. "Chuck, please don't take this the wrong way—"

"I'm not what one would call blessed with the type of body to do well at that job?" he asked.

"I wasn't going to put it that way…" she trailed off, laughing at his flat look. "But THEN, you had to add in all the times you messed up, nearly knocking people out when you tried to carry lumber around on your shoulder and someone behind you called your name..." She was picturing it again and laughing, her eyes leaking a little. "You knew I would start laughing."

He shrugged. "You said there was nothing I could do to 'throw off your game'," he replied with finger quotes. "Who wouldn't take that as a challenge?"

She wadded up another napkin and threw it in his face. "That was cheating." Chuck shrugged. "What if I had told you a crazy story like that?"

"Well, you didn't, you chose to go last."

"But then you left and didn't give me a rematch!"

"Sarah, I couldn't stay all night. What would Ellie think?" She gave him a look through her lashes, twisting her lips, trying not to laugh. "Thanks," he said softly.

"For what?" She chirped.

"Cheering me up," he replied, squeezing her hand. "I know, I gotta stay at the Buy More. Big Mike is on me to be the Ass Man."

"I'm not touching that remark." Chuck gave her a flat look, making her giggle. "It would be weird if you didn't apply for it now." He nodded. "You can talk to me about this stuff, you know. Anytime. I get that I'm the only one you can."

"Who do _you_ have?" he asked, knocking her on her ass again. Every time she thought she had Chuck Bartowski figured out, he would say something like that. It was always just as she thought she was ready for whatever he threw at her; she'd discover exactly how _not_ ready she was. "I hope you know you can talk to me in whatever vague way you need to...to protect your privacy."

"Thank you, Chuck," she said softly. "I just….I've never been one to talk much. It's not you, it's just…"

"I get it, Sarah. You're more of an action girl, which is why you're so mad I beat you."

"YOU CHEATED!"

Chuck threw his head back and laughed. "I better get home. Oh, hey. One thing. Ellie is on me about not having a picture of you in my room. Is it okay if I put one up? You know, you being a spy and all...is that legal?"

She grinned. "It is, as long as it's okay with said spy." She had an evil thought of how to mess with him. "Wait..." she said, making herself look a little offended. "What did you have in mind?" Chuck's face lost all color and she had to make herself stop from smiling. She had led him right to the cliff and he had jumped over again. He began to speak quickly, worry in his voice.

"Oh, God...tell me you don't…." He stopped as she began to grin, seeing realization dawning on his face. Chuck dropped his head. "Damn it, you got me again."

"Tell you what...I'll take care of it, okay?" She patted his hand and he shook his head.

He headed for the door, and looked back over his shoulder at her. "You sure?" Sarah nodded. "'Kay, don't forget the Halloween party."

"And you're going with Morgan as the sand thingy?" The amused expression on her face spoke volumes.

"You're not jealous that your cover boyfriend is not going with you in a matching couple costume, are you?" Chuck had a huge smile on his face. Sarah wadded up another napkin and hit him in the forehead with it. "Damn, you have some range with that." She snorted. "Seriously," he said, his voice softening, and she heard something else in it. "Thanks." She couldn't speak, so she just smiled and nodded.

He left and she nearly collapsed. That smile… Damn it, Chuck. She shook her head and went to get her phone. She needed to order a cover photo of the two of them from the CIA substation. She just hoped it went over better than the soufflé. Who was she kidding, anything would go over better than that soufflé.

}o{

"Hey!"

Chuck looked up at the sound of his sister's voice as he walked into the apartment, tossing his keys in the bowl. "Hey, wassup...er, up there?"

She was standing on a stool, putting up cobwebs for Halloween. Which was her thing. She loved decorating for Halloween. And he usually helped her but this year it just felt…

"We don't have enough _actual_ cobwebs already?" he teased her as she giggled.

"I'm getting ready for our annual Halloween party. What time are you going to be getting here after work Wednesday? Will you be able to help with prep?" She climbed down from the stool, using his shoulder to brace herself, then scurried to the other side of the kitchen to grab more decorations.

"Ohhh...Um, actually I don't think I can. I might be late in fact. They scheduled that whole interview thing for the maybe-promotion that afternoon."

She pulled her lips back between her teeth in a confident smile. "Well, we can just make that an assistant manager party too, then."

His sister Ellie, ever his biggest champion. "Sure! Yeah. If ya feel like jinxing it."

She didn't seem as worried about that as he was, completely ignoring the nervous tone in his voice as she cupped his face in both hands. "You're just finally growing up, aren't you?" she teased, making him laugh. But then she made a little humming sound that felt a lot more sarcastic than was really necessary and he knew why a moment later. "Do you think that this year would be a good time for you and Morgan to have separate costumes?"

Chuck reared back, offended. "Excuse me, but what's wrong with our costume?"

She gave him a look that said, _You really don't know?_

"Um, I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend. But the whole two-man sea cucumber thing is kind of creepy." She picked up a bunch of decorations and slowly moved away from him, wincing.

"First of all, it's a sandworm, okay? Shai-Hulud, to be specific." She didn't look like any of that made a speck of a difference to her. If anything, he'd just out-nerded himself. "And second of all, Dune fans have been goin' nuts over our costume since the eighth grade."

He really hadn't made a believer out of Ellie Bartowski, had he?

Then a booming voice came from the hallway. "YO! Chuckster." Chuck turned and immediately wanted to be literally anywhere else. "Guess what I am?" his sister's boyfriend asked, wearing literally nothing on his body except for a flesh-colored speedo with a small fig leaf pasted over his crotch.

 _This is the worst day ever…_

"Yoooou're...naked?"

"I'm Adam. Ya know? Like Adam and Eve, Adam?" He fixed Chuck with a serious look. "Wait 'til you see my snake."

"I don't wan—I don't wanna see your snake," Chuck said in a flat voice, looking away.

And of course his sister just laughed, strolling up to them and putting her hands on her brother's biceps, squeezing supportively. "Devon, Chuck here has an interview on Wednesday."

"Wait, what? Is that for the Ass Man?"

"Please-Please stop calling it Ass Man. I just waxed poetic about how adult this situation is—an interview for a managerial position—and you call it 'Ass Man'." Ellie sent her boyfriend a roll of the eyes.

"Okay, but it's funny," was his excuse. "Outstanding, though, bro!" He gave Chuck a double handed high five that made his hands sting really bad.

His sister groaned as his phone started to ring in his pocket. He groaned along with her, but for a different reason. "What nooowwww?" He pulled his phone out and saw it was Big Mike. Damn it.

"Hello?" There was nothing, just the sound of clicking. "Hello?"

"I'M GETTIN' TENSE!" Chuck jumped. "You know I don't like gettin' tense!"

He had five years of experience dealing with this sort of situation, whatever the situation was, and he put on his best calming voice. "How can I help ya relax, Big Mike?"

"Find that jackass Morgan! Your buddy's supposed to be working a double shift today but he went AWOL."

"He did...what? What now?" He turned and glanced at Ellie, who'd been giving Devon directions, but they both stopped and looked back at him, question in their faces. "AWOL?"

"He was here one minute, then gone the next. Almost like you not being there meant he was off his leash. If you don't get his ass back here in the next hour, I don't know what I'll do, but that little jerk is on real thin ice."

"G-Got it, Big Mike. I got it. I'll get him there ASAP."

"You better." He heard the loud click on the other end and winced, slowly lowering his phone and giving his sister and her boyfriend the flattest look he could muster.

"That nap I was about to take? Yeah, not happening."

"What's up, bro? Anything I can help you with?" Devon asked.

"Not dressed like that, thank you." He snorted. Then he shook his head. "No, really. Thanks, Awesome. But it's just Morgan. He's left the Buy More in the middle of his double shift and I need to go find him." He dialed Morgan's number but it went to voicemail.

"If that little bearded idiot loses you that promotion, I'll murder him with my bare hands. Make sure he knows that when you find him," Ellie growled.

"Hey, Morg, where are ya, buddy? Big Mike is piiiiiissed. You better get back to the Buy More." He hung up and snorted. "Pretty sure your threat of murder made it onto that voice message, so good lookin' out, sis."

"You know he's at the pier, right?"

Chuck frowned. "What?"

"Morgan! That's where you two always went when you ditched school. You went to the pier."

He snapped and rushed to the door. "You're a genius, Ellie!"

He heard her "I knooow" right before he slammed the door behind him, rushing out to the Herder. He had fifty-five minutes to get Morgan back to the Buy More.

}o{

The arcade was loud as he walked in, so he wouldn't be able to call Morgan's name, probably. Or he could ask the bored-looking teenager behind the counter if he could use the intercom. Right?

But then he turned and saw Morgan standing near the Guitar Shredder stage, running in place, stretching. Oh shit. That was what he did when someone was whooping him at a video game. That meant he was going to come face to face with intense Morgan. And butthurt Morgan. And bitter Morgan. All at once.

Shit.

"Hey! Hey, Morgan! Where you been, buddy?"

"SUP, BUDDY!"

Chuck met Morgan's intense two-handed high five emphatically even though he was about to chew him out a little. "Where have you—Where have you been? I been trying to call you."

"I picked up the sandworm costume from the dry cleaners so we're all freakin' good, bro!" He stepped up onto the stage and grabbed the plastic guitar. As though his answer was a good enough one. "You ready to win another Buy More costume contest?"

"No. No, no… 'Cause, you're supposed to be at work, buddy."

Morgan didn't even look at him—and where the hell'd he get that stupid hat? Instead he shook his head a little, staring at the screen. "Nah, I've got ten big ones ridin' on this quote on quote video game, so...Can I just have, uh…?" He lifted up his arm and waved at some young guy standing over in the corner, beckoning him onto the other stage. "This guy's been handing me my ass in this all fuckin' week, man. I'm tired of it. Time to return the favor," he snarled at the unmoved opponent.

They both looked at each other with _bring it on_ looks and smacked the start buttons as Chuck looked on. Seriously? Who the hell even was this other guy? Did he not have a job?

Chuck lifted his gaze to his face and felt that damn tingle in the back of his head. _No no no no no…_

He shook his head after the flash, working his jaw, blinking. Lazslo Mahnovski. Considered dangerous. Nothing else? Really? That was all the Intersect had on this guy? He was on the run, maybe. But all he needed to know was that Morgan was currently taunting a dangerous man the CIA was possibly looking for over a stupid video game.

"Um, Morgan?"

"Yeah, buddy?" He didn't take his eyes off the game for a second, and Chuck didn't take his eyes off of Lazslo.

"Morgan, this guy is dangerous." That made Lazslo's eyes leave the game and look right into his face, suspicion and fear, weirdly enough, in his red-rimmed eyes.

"Well, Morgan's dangerous, Chuckie! Morgan's dangerous..."

Freaking idiot.

Lazslo stopped playing altogether, just glaring at Chuck, dropping his gaze to look at...something...and lifting them back to his face again. He dropped the guitar and merely walked away from the game as Morgan taunted him, calling him a loser…

Chuck ignored everything else and moved around to the backside of the Guitar Shredder set-up, following in the general direction that Lazslo had gone. He wasn't going to really follow him, but who in the hell was Laszlo Mahnovski and why was he here playing Guitar Shredder at the pier? Just as he was going to circle back, grab Morgan, and get the hell out of here where he could call Sarah and Casey, he felt someone crash into him, fists clenching in his shirt.

He was whipped around and came face to face with Lazslo, the shorter man's grip stronger than he would've expected. "How did you find me?" he demanded. "HOW DID YOU FIND ME?! Who else knows I'm here?"

Chuck just stared in abject fear, gaping, not knowing what to do, because this guy seemed genuinely unhinged.

"Who do you work for?" Lazslo asked again.

"No one! No one! Lemme go! L-Look, I-I-I don't know what you're talking about." Did his phone have a panic button? How fast could Sarah and Casey get here?

"I know you're a spy!" Lazslo exclaimed, his eyes wide and desperate as he grabbed Chuck again and turned him to face the other way, finally letting go of his shirt but not looking like he was ready to allow Chuck to get away any time soon. "Your watch! I designed that watch for the CIA," he said in a slightly quieter voice that was no less panicked. "Are other agents waiting for me outside?" he asked, breathless. Chuck just gaped. "ARE THERE OTHER AGENTS WAITING FOR ME OUTSIDE?!"

Morgan burst out from behind the game system. "HA HAAAA! You're not sneakin' away from me…" Chuck just gaped at Lazslo, trying to come up with a plan of action. But then the man met his gaze, just for a second, before turning on his heels and dashing out of the arcade altogether. "WAIT WHOA! YOU STILL OWE ME TEN BUCKS!" Morgan whined after him.

This time, Chuck didn't follow. But Morgan did, dashing after the so-called dangerous man. Shit. _Shit!_

"MORGAN!" he belted, chasing after his friend. But as he skidded to a halt on the wooden planks of the pier, he saw that the guy didn't mean to harm Morgan, even though he was still whining about the game. Instead, Lazslo Mahnovski hightailed it down the pier toward the shore, escaping instead of fighting. From a weak, inexperienced looking "agent" no less.

Who was this guy, and what had he done to get into the Intersect?

}o{

The panicked sound of Chuck's voice when he called her had gotten Sarah out of her hotel room in less than fifteen seconds. Once she ascertained that this Lazslo guy had escaped and that Chuck had grabbed Morgan and gotten himself back to the Buy More safely, which was exactly what he should have done, before he gave her a call, she eased up on the gas pedal.

She told him to meet her back at his place after he dropped Morgan off and now here she was knocking on the door. After she hung up with Chuck, she called Casey who said he'd get guys on this Lazslo fellow she'd never heard of.

And now Ellie was standing there, door open, a big smile on her face. "Hey! Sarah, hi!"

"Hi, Ellie." She smiled back. "Is-Is, uh, is Chuck here? He was gonna meet me here after he dropped Morgan off at the Buy More."

"No, not yet. But come in!" Ellie reached out a welcoming hand, putting it on Sarah's arm as she thanked her and came in.

"Hey there, Sar!" Devon chirped from the couch. She waved. There was a hole against the arm of the couch that told Sarah she'd interrupted a comfortable cuddling and television session between the couple, which made her feel... _un_ comfortable.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude—"

"You aren't intruding. You're never intruding."

"What she said!" Devon called out.

Sarah laughed. "Thanks. Um...Well, I don't want to keep you from…" She thought she just wouldn't finish that. "Is it cool if I just wait for him in his room? I, um...I sort of have a surprise for him."

Why the hell did she say that? She wanted a reason to just be waiting around for him without it being awkward and by the look on Devon's face, she'd just made it even more awkward. Damn her stupid mouth. Why were these people so nice and normal, and yet they made her so unnerved? She'd looked criminal mastermind murderers in the face and hadn't been this nervous.

"Oh! Yeah, of course. You're totally welcome to wait in there. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Nooo, no. Thank you. Thanks. I'm just gonna…" She gestured down the hallway, thanked them again, and quite nearly made a dash for it.

She shut the door behind her when she got into Chuck's bedroom and tilted her head back to roll her eyes at the ceiling, letting out an annoyed groan. What just happened out in the living room was less important, though, than the phone call she'd gotten from Chuck.

The guy couldn't even go to the arcade at the pier without flashing on people, it seemed. Which made her wonder… Was it necessary for either her or Casey to be with him if he ever went somewhere that wasn't to and from the Buy More? Was he even safe running errands?

She didn't want to get too carried away, but Chuck had seemed like he was verging on hysterical as he panic-whispered at her, wondering if Lazslo Mahnovski could have beat Morgan to death with his video game guitar. She hadn't known what in the hell that meant, really, but she would now be tasked with deescalating this situation, as well as handling the fact that Chuck was clearly freaking out.

Sarah couldn't blame him for it. His flashes usually gave him more information than just "Considered Dangerous". Who in the hell was this guy that they had less info on him in the Intersect than they'd had on her?

And as nervous as this made her, as much as she feared that guy might be at the arcade for Chuck in particular, she needed to find her calm again, because Chuck would need her to be calm. He had a strange knack for noticing if she was unsettled. It was frustrating, especially because he played off of it if he felt nerves from her.

She went to the blinds and opened them a bit so that she could see when he walked by, and then she took a deep breath and paced across to glance at his bookshelf. There were some science fiction books that looked like they were a few decades old and super beat-up, and then there were comic books, action figures, more comic books… For a grown man, she found he had a lot of toys. And yet somehow it made his bedroom more...him. It was a strangely comforting place, she found.

And she'd recaptured her calm when she saw the shadow of Chuck Bartowski dash past the window. She went over to stand there and stare across the courtyard as she distantly heard the door open and voices in the living room. What was Casey finding out about Lazslo Mahnovski right at this moment? Should they be nervous? She hoped this didn't lead Graham and Beckman to assign them some sort of mission, bring this guy in. That would put Chuck in yet another risky situation, which was the last thing any of them needed.

The door burst open and she spun to watch as Chuck swung into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Hey!" He was breathless, nervous. Panicked. Damn it. "Who is this Lazslo character? He just ID'd me as an agent. That seems like a pretty big deal. That seems really bad. I'm supposed to be flying under the radar, right?"

"Relax. We're looking into him now. And you did the right thing getting to safety and calling me instead of following him."

"I didn't do anything! I just flashed on the guy!"

"You followed protocol. You didn't chase after him. That's exactly what you should do in a situation like that, anytime you flash on someone in public." She kept her voice measured, clear, as though she and Casey had everything under control.

"I couldn't chase after him. He dashed away from me like...like he was trying to get out of there. Escape. I mean, he was kind of unhinged...it, uh, rattled me. Like, crazy eyes to the max." He shook his head, his brow furrowed. "But he was just trying to get _away_ , not hurt...anyone."

"That's an assumption, Chuck. We don't know what he's doing here or what he's planning to do. But we're going to figure that out, okay?" She smiled a little, trying to be reassuring. "For now just...stay here and maybe get some sleep."

Chuck let out a frustrated huff. "Get some sleep. That's all you people say to me, and yet that's the only thing I can't seem to get. Headaches? Yep, sure. Rug burns?" She gave him a confused look at that and he narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "S'a...um, long story. Doesn't matter. But I definitely do not get sleep. Like...ever. And I'm not gonna tonight. There's a crazy guy out there who knows that my watch is CIA-made because _he made it_ , and he thinks I'm an agent. So he's gonna be looking for me maybe. I'm not gonna sleep, Sarah."

She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear, switching her weight. "It'll be fine, Chuck. I promise. Casey and I will be right across the courtyard. We're going to check in with you again in the morning and give you a full update on what we find. Sound good?"

"Not really, no, but I guess I don't really have a choice."

Sarah shrugged because he kind of didn't. And then she made to walk around him to where she'd put down her bag on his bed. But then he burst out with a, "Wait. Wait, wait…hold on." As she turned around to face him expectantly, he got a supremely uncomfortable look on his face. Tentative. Awkward, even.

"Look, if it's cool with you...could you...hang out...for a little while?" The words sounded very pained as they came out of him. She gave him a confused look. "Uh, Awesome and Ellie think that...I'm...kind of getting lucky...in here...and I wouldn't want to disappoint." Well, that nearly knocked her right on her ass. She couldn't help the way her jaw fell open a little. And damn it, but she felt the blood burst through her veins like someone had pumped them with uppers. "Them," Chuck added then, and it was painfully obvious why he'd felt the need to add that. Obvious to both of them. Dear God, this was her fault. Devon had probably said something to him...because of the "surprise" she told them she brought. And while she did bring him something, it wasn't—Oh, God.

"Oh!" Words. Words, words, words… "Uhhhh...W-Uh. Um." She played with her fingers in front of her and looked to the side. The bed was to the side. Bad idea. So instead she stole a quick glance at him, swallowing thickly. "Uhhh...W-How long...do you...want me to stay?" she asked, feeling incredibly out of her depth. She felt struck dumb.

"Forty two minutes and fifteen seconds?"

Sarah pulled her chin back and gave him a look. How the hell did he come up with that number that quickly?

"Arcade Fire's first album," he explained. "It's like an...auditory aphrodisiac." The dreamy look on his face told her that he'd thought about this before, that this was...a thing for him, even. That maybe he'd… No, she wasn't going to think down that road. Not at all. The look died on his face and he cleared his throat. "You're not really ready for that yet." Nope. "KAY." He spun and turned on some other thing she'd never heard of, then.

And she took advantage of him turning to get some music going to compose herself, swinging her arms a bit, glancing at the bed, and haltingly moving over to sit on it awkwardly. This was the worst possible scenario for her showing up at his place at night to check on his well-being after his brush with Lazslo the Mystery today.

But she knew if she walked out of this room, after everyone had done their best to build the whole sex thing up, Ellie and Devon would think something had gone wrong. It would compromise their cover as boyfriend and girlfriend. Ellie would ask questions. Ugh, what a mess.

Chuck mumbled to himself a bit as the music flooded the room and then he cleared his throat and walked towards her, freezing at her side, and then sitting, his back brushing against her arm.

She folded her hands in her lap, admitting to herself that this was absolutely the first time she'd had to do something like this for the job. How did they even tackle this situation? She knew the one thing they _couldn't_ do. And so they just sat there.

Sarah could see in her peripheral as Chuck attempted to turn and say something, awkwardly thinking twice about it and turning back to face front, then trying a second and third time, never once actually getting anything out. At least she wasn't alone in her discomfort, she supposed.

He finally did speak after about thirty seconds of awkward silence.

"Why were you in my room anyway?" He turned to glance at her over his shoulder.

"Well, uh... " Good, she could dive right into business. _Thank you, Chuck._ She spun to grab her bag, pulling the picture out of it. "I-I wanted to surprise you…" His profile looked very confused and she decided to just show him. "Uh…" She handed the picture over. "It's us at—at Comic-Con."

They were dressed as someone named Han Something or Other and Leia, was it? Something from Star Wars. Something she managed to avoid for the most part throughout her life, even if she knew what it was. People fighting wars in space. A guy in a black mushroom-shaped helmet with a deep voice who breathed really hard.

The job they'd done on the photoshopping was okay, she thought. Why they put them at Comic-con was a little iffy, though. They'd been dating for maybe a few weeks. Was Comic-Con a frequent thing? Was that just something some nerds did on the weekends? The analyst who sent it over thought nobody would question it. And Chuck was a nerd, so...maybe he'd appreciate the extra effort she'd asked Newman to go into.

"What do you think?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear a little nervously.

He let out a huff, smiling just a little, looking gobsmacked. "It-It's great," he said. She heard a tinge of warmth in it.

But then Chuck held it up a bit closer, taking it all in, and the smile died, his brow furrowed. "But we've...never actually been to Comic-Con, you and me."

"No, but...that's okay, right? I mean, it's a picture of us. And Ellie might be...okay with it? I mean, the important thing is that you're okay with it. Us, I mean. There. You like Star Wars, yeah? Or is it just..um, Dune?"

"No, I love Star Wars! Love it. You—I mean, I've memorized the entire OT."

"The what?" she asked with a small smile, raising her eyebrows.

"The original trilogy. Sorry. Before all this, Ellie, Devon, Morgan, and the Nerd Herders were the only people I really talked to—besides customers, obviously—and, um, I need to speak in English now. Heh."

She sniffed in amusement. "It's okay." When Sarah turned her grin on him, she saw that he was gazing at the picture again, a small smile on his face. "What?"

"No, it-it's just that we...I dunno, we really look like a real couple here."

"Well, we…" She had to tread carefully here. "We are a real couple. We're just a...different sort of a couple." That sounded lame the moment it came out of her mouth, and she was just glad he couldn't see her face as she lifted her blue eyes to watch him, taking him in for a long while in a way she didn't typically allow herself to. She both wanted to and didn't want to know what he was thinking as he looked at the warm, coupley picture of them, a picture they hadn't taken. It wasn't real. Someone had photoshopped it. And no, they weren't a real couple, or even a "different" sort of a couple. That wasn't the best way to respond and she knew it. But she couldn't take it back now.

"That we are," he said quietly, looking down at the picture again. "Thank you." He turned to smile fully at her. "For doin' this. You could've just stuck our heads on some stock photo of a couple in front of the Hollywood sign." He chuckled at that, giving her that warm look of his. "But you didn't. You, um, personalized this to the max."

Sarah giggled. "Well, you are a huge nerd. I figure you'd take a girlfriend to a nerd convention before you would take her on a hike to the Hollywood sign."

"Uuuuhhh. Not a woman like you. Not if I wanna keep your around instead of having you running for the hills screaming."

She watched him for a moment as he smirked down at the picture again. "Don't be so sure of that, Chuck."

The CIA agent supposed she should've just let him think whatever it was he was thinking, but she didn't like these moments he had when he dressed himself down like this. She didn't think there was any harm in building him up a little. So what if he had a lot of toys even though he was twenty-six years old? So he could quote the...OT? She was relatively sure John Casey could quote the entire Constitution and every amendment on top of that, as well as every Reagan movie...that last one was a little offensive to her, but everyone had their thing she guessed.

Thankfully, he didn't respond with words, just looking over at her and smiling. Then he leaned in and bumped her a bit with his shoulder.

Perhaps this had turned out okay after all. Even if Ellie and Captain Awesome thought they were at this moment having sex, which was incredibly awkward, at least the air wasn't as tense or as embarrassed as it had been.

Sarah plucked the picture back from his hands. "Lemme put it over here on your dresser, right next to your head."

"Why's that?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

"So you can kiss it before you go to bed. Isn't that what people do with this sort of thing?"

"Oh Goddddd!" he groaned, flopping onto his back dramatically and making her laugh.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading. Please leave us reviews. Thanks!

-SC and DC


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:** Thanks for continuing to read this one. Almost done with Sandworm. Some small but important changes we felt were necessary.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making any money writing this. We are writing it for free. You are reading it for free.

* * *

Chuck was in the break room thinking about last night. He had been scared to death about Lazslo, but then Sarah had been waiting for him, and she'd given him the picture of them. The picture he had stared at this morning. For a while. The picture that she had teasingly suggested he kiss goodnight before he went to bed. He'd laughed at her, even called her corny, but then he wondered what it might be like if they were a real couple and he could keep that picture there next to his bed knowing she was his girlfriend. Maybe he wouldn't kiss it, but he could look at it and at least know…

But they weren't a real couple. They were a couple of friends, that could never be more because of the government, and what it would mean for both of them. Him in a bunker, her in Jakarta in a knife fight...that she would totally win because she was Sarah freakin' Walker. He shook his head. It was useless to think about that. Pining was useless.

He tasted his coffee and surprisingly found it tasted...good. He grinned and then frowned again as he wondered if Casey had heard anything about Lazslo. He nearly jumped and dumped the coffee on himself as Casey burst through the door.

"You!" he growled, closing the door behind himself. "What do I have to do to get timely intel out of you, Bartowski?"

Chuck was a little surprised. "Look, I briefed Sarah last night, all right?" He turned and headed to get his bagel.

"Oh, I bet you did, slugger."

Chuck turned around, clenching his jaw a bit at the insinuation. For Sarah's sake if not his own. "What is going on with you? I thought we talked about this." Casey gave him a look. "You know there is nothing between us. You know that, Casey."

"I'm aware there is nothing physical happening between the two of you," Casey replied.

Chuck tried to keep a straight face, but the gears were turning in his head. What the hell did that mean? What the hell? He tried to appear indignant. "I thought we were all supposed to be part of the same team here, huh? Team Chuck."

"We are, but I'm starting to feel like the guy who always gets picked last, and I do not like feeling like Team Chuck's little fat kid." Chuck started to answer, but Casey went on. "Seems like the two of you have your own little team."

"Are you jealous, Casey?" As soon as Chuck asked the question he knew it was the wrong thing to ask.

"No, I just don't want the NSA getting cut out of the mix while you play whatever game you two are playing...one on one." An evil grin appeared on Casey's face.

Chuck knew what was coming, he had to change the subject quickly. "Casey—"

"I mean I get it, she's teaching you basketball and dribble penetration." Chuck nearly choked. "Are you scoring on a consistent basis?" Chuck raised his finger to speak. "Always drive to hole, Bartowski."

"OKAY!" Chuck yelled. "Okay," he said more calmly. "You know what, the next time I have a flash, I'll come straight to you, all right, Casey?" Casey nodded. "Can that be the last time we ever do that? PLEASE?"

"Depends," Casey grunted. "What did you tell Lazslo?"

"Nothing." Casey raised an eyebrow. "He asked me where I got my watch, and I told him my girlfriend gave it to me, okay?"

"So you compromised yourself and Agent Walker?" Casey growled, turned and walked off. "Bang up job, Chuck."

"Well, what the hell was I supposed to say?" Chuck retorted. Casey paused and looked over his shoulder. "I've not been told what to do when crazy people that escaped a bunker confront me. I've had no training and no instruction and all you do is yell at me."

Casey came back and stood in his face. Chuck gulped. "Feel better now?"

"No, please don't rip my arm out and beat me with it," Chuck begged.

There was silence as Casey studied him. "You could be right."

Chuck thought about rubbing it in, but knew that would be bad. "Thanks, Casey."

Casey walked away. "I hope Walker doesn't mind being thrown under the bus." Chuck winced, hoping she wouldn't get too mad.

}o{

Chuck handed the customer the warranty folder. "So now you and your son are ready to video-chat."

"Thank you, young man," the customer gushed. "You've been great."

Chuck watched her walk away, looked around, and pulled up the website he had been looking at earlier. It was an instruction site on aikido. He watched the defense fighting technique, trying to understand it.

Casey's voice came from behind him. "The defensive shit? Really?"

Chuck spun, taken by surprise. "Eep! Nooo…" He shut the laptop quickly. He was a little offended.

"Kid, I'll teach you how to shoot a gun."

"Do you really think Beckman would like that?"

Casey thought a second. "I mean she might have a good laugh, but the paperwork would be hell when you shoot yourself...and you would."

"Is there something you need, Casey, or is this just your normal 4:26 PM time to harass me?"

"Might wanna save your little hobbit friend from getting fired," and with that he walked off, laughing to himself and saying something about having dreams with Walker flipping him.

Chuck put all that to the side, but now that Casey had mentioned it… _Focus, Bartowski!_ He went to find Morgan. It only took a minute. He was with some customers, and Chuck hung back, listening to the sale.

"Dude, it's a great camera, but I can't afford it," the customer said to Morgan.

"No problem," Morgan said, shrugging. "I'll go tag it as an opened item and get 20% knocked off of it." Chuck's eyes widened. What was he doing? "My boss said if I could sell enough merchandise I get tomorrow off, so this will put me over the top."

Chuck had heard enough. He plucked the camera out of Morgan's hands. "Give me—give me this. Come on, come on." He wrestled it away and turned to the kids. "Get, shoo, shoo, shoo. Have fun, go find the video games."

He turned to Morgan who was giving him a look. "What was that about, man? Come on, I was this close to closing a sale."

Chuck couldn't believe his ears. "No. You know what you are, Morgan? You are this close to getting fired for theft. Why would you do that?"

"Big Mike keeps making me work doubles," he replied, shrugging. "What happened, Chuck?" Morgan tapped Chuck in his chest with his finger. "You used to be cool."

"I-I used to be cool?" Chuck was flabbergasted. "When was that? When we were 13? Well, I'm sorry to go changing on you, buddy. But if you hadn't noticed, we are now, chronologically-speaking, adults. So, unless you wanna work retail for the rest of your life, and by the way, drag me down with you in the process, I would suggest that you grow up." Morgan made a face, bounced his head around like he was mock thinking about it, and walked off.

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," Lester said, walking up behind him with Jeff trailing. "Couldn't help but notice the way you handled that, uh, Morgan situation. That was most impressive, Chuck."

"That's great, that's great," Chuck replied.

"You gave me goose-bumps," Jeff added, showing Chuck his arm.

"Super, Jeff," Chuck replied, crossing his arms looking at the two. "Did you notice what was going on?"

"Oh, absolutely," Lester replied.

"And you didn't think to stop it?" Chuck asked. "To help your friend?"

"I have no eyes on the mantle of leadership such as yourself," Lester replied. "I have no want to be culled from the herd and looked at differently." Lester sighed dramatically. "Not all of us are cut from the same cloth as you."

Chuck looked from one to the other. "Kill me," he muttered, and walked off.

}o{

As he walked out of the Buy More after a long day, he thought about visiting Sarah and seeing if he could convince her to let him wear that Weinerlicious outfit after all. Lester and his bullshit, Morgan and his bullshit, and just all the bullshit that was the Buy More. Why on earth did he want to be the Assistant Manager? ...No...Ass Man….because that is exactly what he'd be if he took that job. Suddenly, a guy ran out from behind the Nerd Herders and got in his face, complete with a screwed up, cheap, knock-off Insane Clown Posse mask.

"Nice try, buddy, but, uh, Halloween's tomorrow, okay?" Chuck was trying to laugh, there was no telling how nuts this dude was... and that's when he pulled out the gun. You would think as many times Chuck had guns pointed at him in the past month, it wouldn't bother him as much. You'd be wrong. "Or today, or today. It could be today if you want it to be today."

The guy ripped off the mask, and it was Lazslo. This day just kept getting better. "I didn't kill anybody," he insisted.

Chuck had no way of contacting anyone. "Look, I-I never said you did."

"Then why am I on the FBI list?" Lazslo countered.

Chuck's hands were up, trying to calm Lazslo. "I don't know. Just calm down."

"I was framed, okay?" Chuck was pretty sure this was what crazy looked like. No, he was positive. "You have to believe me. I am not a murderer."

"Okay, okay. I believe you." Chuck knew he should shut up. He knew he should. When his mouth started talking he really wasn't surprised. "But, FYI...you're kinda acting like a murderer."

"You told the undercover agent about me, didn't you? He's talking to Pentagon operations right now. I tapped into the encrypted video feed at the store. I helped design that home theater system."

Chuck was beside himself. "Look, I-I-I don't know—" A car horn went off, giving him an opening. He grabbed Lazslo's hand and yelled out "GUN!" They struggled back and forth both yelling at different times, "I got it!" and then Lazslo got leverage and Chuck found himself bent over the hood of a Nerd Herder looking up at the stars. Lazslo stood over Chuck, the gun pointed down into his face when...he felt a few drops on his face...coming from the muzzle of the gun...

"Is that a water gun?" he asked, realizing the absurdity of it all.

"No."

"I'm pretty sure it's dripping on my face," Chuck replied.

Lazslo shook his head and let Chuck up. "I'm sorry," he began as Chuck sat up. "Name's Lazslo, and I need help."

Chuck stared at him and asked the only thing that came to mind. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"You're on the inside. You have access. Look, unless you help me clear my name, they're gonna keep chasing me." Those words slammed into Chuck and he thought about his talk with Sarah those few months ago. **_There's nowhere I can run, is there?_** _Not from us._ This could have been him, if not for Sarah. If it hadn't been for her... "You're my only hope," Lazslo said, pulling Chuck from his thoughts. The only thing missing there was Obi-Wan... "But first... I could really use some pancakes."

"Come on," Chuck said, knowing there would be blowback, but also knowing for the first time since this whole thing started, this was something he understood more than Sarah or Casey did. What would have happened to him if he had been in a bunker? They got in the car and rode in silence to get pancakes. Would Casey have come here and gotten pancakes after he had thrown Chuck into the bunker? They placed their order, received their food, and Chuck's curiosity got the better of him. "What else did you make for the CIA?"

"Whatever the jobs called for actually. I mean, if an agent wanted thermal-vision Ray Bans or a parachute in a backpack, i'm the guy they'd call. Like a CIA tech wish machine."

Chuck thought and nodded impressed. "You're like a real-life Q?" Lazslo looked confused. Surely this guy knew James Bond, right? "You know." He paused. Did he not? What did this guy do for fun? "You know...Q?" Maybe he didn't realize the letter was the person's name, that's it! "The guy who used to make all the gadgets for Bond, Q?"

"Bond was that spy-guy, right?"

"What, have they been keeping you in a friggin' cave?"

"Underground lab actually," Lazslo replied, doodling on a napkin. "For the last 10 years, all I did was work in that lab pretty much. Well, that and play video games. But, uh... No friends, no family."

Chuck didn't know what to say. He could have been this guy. In a bunker. There would have been nothing. "No Bond. No wonder you blew up all your research and busted out of there. That's just inhumane."

Lazslo didn't seem to want to respond to that. Maybe he just knew he didn't have to. Instead, he twitched a little and asked, "So what kind of work do you do?"

Whoops, Lazslo had just changed the subject on him, and Chuck was now going from trying to find stuff out to playing defense. No way in hell was he giving this guy an inner look at his role with the government. He didn't trust him. "You know, it's kinda, it's kinda, uh, complicated."

"Right, but you gotta be some kind of a genius," Lazslo insisted. Oh, crap. "Or prodigy?" Can't very well say I have a computer in my head. "I mean feds don't bother recruiting somebody, guarding them with undercover agents, unless you're super-good at something." Nope, no one gets a Casey and Sarah without being something. "What are you super-good at?"

He couldn't say running and screaming in terror. "Let's just say I'm a computer guy."

}o{

Chuck opened the door to the apartment, and looked around for a second. Lazslo's words were still ringing in his ear. _I mean, you don't believe me? Go home and search your room. See what kind of bugs your good guy handlers planted on you. From now on, you should trust your handlers precisely as much as they trust you._ Sarah wouldn't do that to him. He looked around the apartment and then thought back to their conversation a few days ago after the almost kiss. _Look, I'm not in charge of that. The NSA is. Casey is._ Those had been Sarah's own words. His apartment was bugged. But it was to keep him safe...right? He searched around for a bit, and decided to look under the lamp. There he found one, not well hidden either. He searched a little while longer, and in the phone he found one. He began searching the entire apartment, Lazslo's words ringing in his head.

 _I was 11... And... Some agent saw me playing Tetris at an arcade. So he asked me if I can take all these tests. The next thing I know, he's offering to pay my way through school. My parents, like, they didn't know what to do with a kid whose IQ is higher than both theirs combined. So they signed me over. And that's when I became property of the United States government._

They had argued for a minute and Chuck was pulled out of his thought by finding a bug in the bathroom...Why the hell was there a bug in the bathroom? Why, Casey, why? What in the hell could you hope to learn in the bathroom except who needed more fiber in their diet? He couldn't bring himself to check Ellie's room. What was Casey doing? Why had Lazslo gave him that doodle? Why…? His gaze caught the picture of him and Sarah. No. Nonononononono. Please. Please, God no. He picked it up and noticed his hands were shaking. He gently removed the back of the picture, and examined it. There was a bug. He sunk down on his bed.

 _Chuck, listen. You can't tell your handlers you ever saw me._ ** _What? Why?_** **_They can help you, Lazslo. They're the good guys._** _There's no such thing in this business._

He was a fool. An absolute fool. He had trusted her. He had trusted her completely, and she didn't trust him. She didn't trust him to do the right thing, and that hurt. It hurt in a way it shouldn't. She had told him they could never be anything more than friends, and he understood that. He understood why, but he thought they were at least friends. He looked down at the picture, put it back together, and dropped it in the trash can. Casey planting bugs was one thing. She'd even told him about that. But it felt so much worse thinking about Sarah tricking him like this, giving him something she knew he'd appreciate only to get a bug in his room. What had she heard?

He looked over towards the closet at his suit he had picked out for tomorrow. Buy More Assistant Manager. That's all he would ever be. If he somehow got out of this, this whole nightmare CIA spy life, he would be an Ass Man, because that was all he was worth.

He gathered up the bugs, walked over to Casey's, and knocked on the door. Casey opened the door, dressed in a robe.

"You might want to hide these a bit better, the asset found them without any problem," Chuck said, pushing them into Casey's hand. "It's bad enough you've been prying into my most intimate moments, but to do it so poorly... You know what? I swear to God, if I find out you've been spying on my sister, I will kill you, Casey."

Casey stared at him. "There's nothing in your sister's room."

"The bathroom?"

Casey winced. "I didn't want to do that. Orders." He paused and studied Chuck. He started to say something a few times and then changed his mind. "What's bugging you, kid? You're a high value target, I'm paid to spy. It's for your protection."

"I feel violated, Casey."

"Well, it's not like I heard any of those...whaja call 'em? Intimate moments?" Casey grinned. "At least, not in the sense of traditional two-person intimacy."

Chuck just stared at Casey. "You're right, there hasn't been, has there?" Casey gave him a look. "But still, I feel violated."

" _You_ feel violated? No, no, no, my ears feel violated," Casey replied.

"I know Morgan and I talk about sandwiches a bit," Chuck began.

"Sandwiches? Oh, I'm aware, but that's not what I'm talking about." Casey got that evil grin on his face. He walked over and hit play on the audio.

Morgan's voice came over the speaker. "Dude, she's Mary Jane, she's totally MJ. Don't get me wrong, Gwen, she was who Peter Parker was supposed to get, hot, nerdy, can dance, but MJ, MJ was special, and that's Sarah, man. She's special."

"Dude, some days I just feel like she's way out of my league," Chuck's voice countered.

"It's because of what the Green Goblin did to you," Morgan replied.

"For clarity, that's Bryce, right?"

"Yes, except Bryce can't come back from the dead, so there's that."

Casey leaned over Chuck's shoulder. "She is out of your league, Moron."

Chuck spun around. "I'm well aware of that, Casey. Painfully aware."

Casey studied Chuck and didn't say anything for a second. "I planted those bugs, Chuck, not her. If it's any comfort."

"Seems you're out of the loop, too. That picture she brought me the other day had one. I'm going to bed," Chuck replied, heading for the door. "How about you leave it out of the bathroom, and hide them where Ellie can't find them? Hmm? Or do you want to explain all of this to my sister?"

Chuck walked out of Casey's apartment and back into his. He opened the door to his bedroom. The light was out...Chuck didn't remember turning it off, but he thought nothing of it.

"Hello, Chuck," Lazslo said as Chuck jumped, and grabbed his chest wondering if this was what a heart attack felt like. Lazslo looked like some villain out of a Bond movie the way he was sitting in that chair. "What did you tell your handler?"

"That he's terrible at hiding bugs. That I felt violated."

"What about me?" Lazslo asked.

"Dude, don't take this the wrong way, but this isn't about you right now. I have my own issues."

"Chuck," Lazslo began.

"Listen, I think you're innocent, and I think the best thing for you to do is go and turn yourself in. I still believe they'd help you, but I get it if you don't. I get it if you just want to run."

"Forget it, Chuck. They went through the trouble of framing me for murder. What's going to happen when they get me back? A slap on the wrist? There's got to be someplace you can hide me." Well. There was a place. "Just for tonight."

Chuck thought for a few seconds and made a decision. He decided that if he ever had to run he hoped there was someone to help him. "There is one place."

}o{

"Walker, secure," Sarah said, answering her phone.

"I don't get you, Walker. Why would you risk it?" Sarah's heart jumped into her throat. She had done nothing with Chuck, nothing at all. "It's not like you."

"Casey, first, you don't know _me_ , you know my file. Second, I've done nothing wrong. He's the asset, and I can't help how he feels. I'm working on—"

"Why'd you bug that picture?" Casey asked.

"WHAT?"

"The picture of you and the nerd at Nerdpalooza—why did you put a bug in it?"

"I didn't," she replied softly. Oh. Oh, shit... That was the photo she ordered from the substation. She hadn't planted a bug on it, but someone had. And they did it before they gave it to her. Graham had to have given the order, and they'd kept it from her. But why?

"Did you put that thing together, Walker?"

"No."

Casey grunted. "You may have some work to do."

"Casey, I promise you—"

"Walker, your job is to protect the asset, and right now, he's pretty vulnerable….and there are no bugs in the apartment, he found them all, and chewed me out for my hiding techniques." Sarah chuckled. "I guess he's better at hiding things than I gave him credit for." Was that Casey's attempt at crude humor? "That's more in your detail than mine." He was silent. Apparently it was. "Walker, for the record, that other stuff….I have no idea what you're talking about." That hit her right in the gut. "Fix it, Walker." The line went silent and she stared at the phone. She would deal with him later. She began to close up shop when the door opened and a man in a suit walked in. He had a swollen right eye and looked like someone had kicked his ass recently. He closed the door behind him.

She reached behind her belt and pulled out a knife. "Willkommen to Wienerlicious. I'm sorry, but we're geschlossen—and that's German for 'closed'."

"That's really adorable," he said, pulling out his badge. "Nice cover, Agent Walker. You have a sec?" He pulled out a file and showed it to Sarah.

She studied it for a moment and then looked at the agent. "So this kid just escaped?

He walked away, his hands in his pocket. "Look, we tried everything we could to prevent this whole thing from happening."

"And what exactly is this whole thing?"

"A mentally unstable weapons designer, off his meds, and currently running around Los Angeles."

"And how do you know all this?"

"Lazslo was my asset," the agent replied. "I was the one who found him. I was the one who trained him, and I'm definitely the one who's going to be bringing him back. Look, I'm just going to be completely straight with you, Walker. We believe that he is looking to make a bomb." Sarah tensed up. This was not good. Lazslo knew about Chuck. This was not good at all. "And God help whoever's in his way when Lazslo decides to go off."

}o{

Chuck and Lazslo were sitting in the home theater room about to start _A View to a Kill._

"I've never seen any of these," Lazslo admitted.

"Any?" Lazslo shook his head. "Well, my friend you picked the right one to start with, the villain in this one...well, I won't spoil it for you." Chuck's phone rang.

"Who is it?" Lazslo asked.

"It's Sarah," he said, hitting ignore. "I'm taking your advice."

"Chuck, you have to turn it off, she'll track you, and come—"

"Dude, again, this is more about me than you," Chuck replied, a little surprised by the tone in his voice. "She lied to my face." Lazslo nodded and calmed down. He sat down as Chuck pulled his phone back out of his pocket. His days at the Buy More had taught him the all important skills of how to text without looking and read without moving his head down. **Can't talk, what's wrong?**

 _Lazslo is dangerous._

 **Is he really or is that something else you're just telling me to keep me in line?**

 _What the hell does that mean?_

 **The bug in our cover picture.**

Chuck shoved the phone in his pocket, pissed off. He stood up. "I'm not really feeling this." Lazslo looked up at him. "I have a big interview tomorrow. It may be the only job I'm able to have after all of this so I need to try and get a decent night's sleep."

"She really hurt you, didn't she?" Chuck nodded. "You know," Lazslo said taking the remote and starting to mess with it. "We could pay her back."

"How's that?"

"I haven't played with this bad boy since I designed it." Lazslo looked half crazed. "It's strategic air command. We keep a fleet of B-2s in Guam, kept on nuclear alert, just in case."

Chuck stared at him. "Lazslo, stop it."

"Chuck, we can—"

"DUDE! STOP IT!" Lazslo stared at him. "I get it, we've gotten screwed, but this? This is just as bad. Listen, put _A View to a Kill_ back on, I'll go pop popcorn and we'll watch the movie, okay?" Lazslo nodded, shut down the system, and started back up the DVD player. Chuck headed to the door.

"Chuck!" Lazslo called out. Chuck spun, a little frightened. "You got any of that Kettle Corn?"

"I'll see what I can do," Chuck replied. He headed toward the back room, but as soon as he was out of sight, he sprinted to the front of the Nerd Herd desk, and called Sarah.

"Chuck!"

"Sarah, he's CRAZY!" Chuck yelled-whispered. "He was gonna turn a missile on you!"

"On me? Why?"

"Sarah, we have more important things to talk about, like getting me out of here," Chuck replied, checking to make sure Lazslo hadn't followed him.

"Chuck, go outside and get in the Nerd Herder and lock yourself inside, okay?"

"Okay."

"And, Chuck, we'll talk later about that picture but I need you to know it wasn't me, okay?"

"Okay. Just get here, please!" Chuck stayed low as he got out the door. He sprinted to the car, and jumped in.

He was starting to turn the keys when the voice in the passenger seat made him jump. "Where are we headed?" Chuck wasn't sure what to do. Lazslo locked the door, and punched some numbers on the CD player. A steering wheel and pedals slowly made their way out of the dashboard and floorboard on his side. Lazslo put the car in drive and took off. "I thought I asked you to turn your phone off," Lazslo said. Chuck gulped. "Who were you talking to?"

"My handler, okay? She was just checking in. She screwed up, she knows she did. She lost my trust." Chuck shook his head. "She said she was my friend."

Lazslo shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that, Chuck. You should not have dragged them into this."

"I didn't drag anyone into anything, Lazslo," Chuck replied. "You know what? I have stuck up for you at every turn and all I keep hearing out of you is how everyone has screwed you over. I've gone to bat for you, and all you do is threaten me. Well, I'm tired of your threats, so knock it off. Take me home."

"I'm not responsible for what happens now," Lazslo said softly. Chuck turned to look at him...his eyes were wild, red-rimmed, crazed... Casey and Sarah were right to be scared of him. Chuck was officially scared, too. This guy made Jeff look sane. "We have a tail!" Lazslo spat. "You sold me out... You sold me out!"

"No, no, no, no. I just didn't want you to get hurt, okay? Look, relax. Just relax, everything is going to be cool."

Lazslo looked over at Chuck. "Everything is not going to be cool." Lazslo began to drive like a bat out of hell.

"What the hell?" Chuck screamed trying his break pedal unsuccessfully. "I tried to help you!" Lazslo just laughed. "You know what? You're an asshole!" Lazslo's eyes got wide. "When you act like this, people tend to think you're crazy, do you get that?"

Chuck tried to grab the steering wheel. They fought over it as Lazslo screamed, "You're going to kill us! You're going to kill us!" Lazslo shoved Chuck away, spun the car around, and aimed it right at the SUV that Casey was driving. Casey swerved at the last second as Chuck yelled. Lazslo looked over at Chuck. "Well, Chuck, it's been fun."

"Not so much for me," Chuck retorted. Lazslo hit a red button, the door on Chuck's side blew off and his seat went flying out of the Herder. It vaulted down the street, skidding on the road a terrifyingly far way, and finally slid to a stop beside a convertible with two women inside. "Ladies," he said, trying to keep his cool. The SUV stopped behind him.

"Don't unbuckle him, Ladies," Casey called out. "He just escaped from an institution."

The women looked at each other and took off.

"Thanks, Casey," Chuck droned, while Casey got him unbuckled.

"You have enough trouble with your fake girlfriend," Casey muttered. "There's no telling what kind of fresh hell I'd be involved with if you got an actual one."

"I don't think we have anything to worry about," Chuck said, as Casey led him to the SUV. Chuck got in beside some agent he had never met before.

"What can you—" the new agent began.

"Leave him alone," Sarah said, staring at the agent. "He's been through enough tonight." Chuck gave her a head nod, and turned and looked out his window. He could feel her keeping an eye on him, but he didn't have it in him to look back. Not tonight. He had helped a fugitive because he believed he was being wrongly persecuted. He thought his one friend in this didn't have his back, and now she said she didn't plant the bug after all. He didn't know what to believe or whom to believe, but he did know one thing. He had an interview tomorrow that meant more to his sister than it did to him. It meant more to Morgan than it did to him. He was going to be an Ass Man...Truth was, he already felt like one.

* * *

 **A/N:** Please leave us reviews. Thanks!

-SC and DC


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and the reviews. Here we go!

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making any money writing this. We are writing it for free. You are reading it for free.

* * *

"Don't worry, kid, a new Herder will be here in the morning. I'll have it delivered to your place before you wake up," Casey told Chuck as they got out of the SUV.

Sarah watched as Chuck nodded, not saying anything, his features not changing from the glum look he'd had since he climbed into the back of the car. This wasn't good. Usually he wouldn't stop talking and now he had gone silent. Sarah looked at Casey. "And yes, I know to make sure your keys fit it," Casey added. Chuck said nothing. Casey looked back over at Sarah and gave a head tilt.

Sarah got the hint. "Why don't I take you home, Chuck?" she offered.

"And be careful, I haven't had a chance to fix everything," Casey added. Chuck said nothing and headed to the car by himself. Lazslo's handler had already left in the SUV, leaving Sarah and Casey standing there alone. "Apparently neither has your handler," Casey muttered.

"I haven't really had a chance. Plus I know nothing more than I did the last time we talked," Sarah said softly.

"Walker, what the hell is the CIA playing at?"

Sarah searched his face for a second. She saw no ill-will, just concern for the mission. She didn't blame him, she didn't know what was going on, and it was frustrating the hell out of her. "I have no idea," she replied.

He grunted a laugh. "This oughta be all sorts of fun. Get the nerd home, tuck him in bed. I'll work on this tonight."

"I'll get back as quick as I can to help you," Sarah replied.

Casey looked around and saw Chuck standing beside Sarah's Porsche. "Nope. Someone's gotta watch the asset, especially if Lazslo comes back. Your choice if it's at my place or with the nerd." Sarah gave him a flat look. "After tonight he might need you to hold his hand."

"Casey, agents would have shit their pants with what he's been through," Sarah retorted, angrily.

He grinned at her. "Yeah, they would've. But someone has done a helluva keeping that boy calm." He paused. "I mean it. Helluva job, Walker."

"It's him, you know. He deserves the credit," she replied softly.

Casey nodded. "Yeah, he does. Why do you think I don't push for the bunker anymore?"

She grinned at him. John Casey might actually be finding a feeling….just one, but a feeling nonetheless. "You like him."

"Did you hit your damn head? Go fix the situation," Casey replied, but the normal disgust wasn't in his tone.

"I gotta figure the situation out first," she replied, heading off.

"Walker," he called out. She glanced over her shoulder. "Let me know if I can help with that. Who knows? Maybe you can come work for the good guys?"

She grinned at him and turned her head back around. "Already work with two," she replied. She heard Casey grunt.

She walked up to the car, and Chuck got in, on autopilot. How was she going to handle this? She was worried. The day was coming when she was going to have to spend the night at his place, and tonight would work cover-wise. A girlfriend, supporting her guy who had a big interview the next day...but she dreaded it. Even though they had their talk and Chuck was doing all he could to shove any and all feelings aside, there was something there still on his side….and if she was honest, hers as well. And right now he was hurt. He thought she had betrayed him, and now he felt like he betrayed _her_ she knew, and that wasn't going to stand.

"I'm staying at Casey's tonight to keep an eye, just in case….Unless you feel unsafe with Lazslo still out there and want me to stay with you." _Pleasesaynopleasesaynopleasesayno._

"Probably best at Casey's," Chuck mumbled. "Too much going on right now to also have to explain you being at my place."

That was a bullshit answer and she knew it, but the hell if she was gonna call him on it, because right now, she felt the exact same way. She knew they should talk, and they would, just as soon as she figured out what in the hell was going on. They got to Echo Park and she walked Chuck to his door. She inspected the courtyard for a moment to make sure no one was watching and went to Casey's. She couldn't be seen coming in or out of Casey's—that would require some serious explaining.

She'd gotten a text from Casey saying that her car was being moved and it would be back in the morning. She wasn't thrilled about someone touching her car, but she didn't really have much of a choice.

She dialed the substation, gave her clearance, and calmed herself. "I need to know about the picture I ordered a few days ago."

"Did you like it?" the tech asked. "It's what I would have wanted if I had a girlfriend. I mean, if I went to the con with my girlfriend."

Nice attempt at a save, she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. "It was great, but I had a bit of a problem with it. There was a bug in it."

"Oh, there's a note on your file for anything ordered for the asset's home to include a bug if possible."

"I see, and who placed that note on my file?"

"It's above my pay grade, Agent Walker," the tech replied.

Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. Damn it. Graham. "And do we know where the bug sends to the receiver?"

"Yes, actually. There's a loose brick in the fountain that hides that particular receiver. The tape is refreshed every four days."

Sarah did the math in her head. No one had gotten it yet. "Thank you," she said, and hung up. She opened the door, glanced around, and snuck over to the fountain. She examined it for a minute, found the spot where she would have hidden it, removed the brick and saw her prize. She opened up the recorder, and took the tape out. She returned the brick, and took both the machine and the tape back into Casey's. She threw the tape on the floor and smashed it with her heel. Satisfied it was in enough small pieces, she gather up the remains and threw them in the fireplace.

She pulled her phone back out.

"Casey, I did some digging on that bug. It came from above my pay grade."

Casey grunted. "What about the receiver?

"Found it, removed the tape and destroyed it. I'm holding the receiver," Sarah replied.

"That's a dangerous game, Walker."

"I'm aware," Sarah replied. "Think your people could figure out a way to detect for any more of these receivers?"

"I'm sure they could," Casey replied. He paused. "How's he?"

"Asleep, I hope. I'll talk to him in the morning, unless something comes up and you need me."

"Oh, hell no. I'm just sorry I won't have any way to hear what you two say to each other," Casey replied. What the hell? Casey hated listening to Chuck's talks on recordings….Oh...there wouldn't be any bugs.

"Thanks, Casey."

"Just looking out for my partner," Casey replied, and hung up. Sarah laid on the couch. She didn't know if she would sleep. She needed to, but she had to figure out what to say to Chuck, and the truth probably wasn't the best….was it?

}o{

An agent knocking on Casey's door with a fresh change of clothes and coffee for her woke her up. She shook her head. Casey was determined for this talk to happen. He was right. Chuck wasn't acting like himself, which could affect the Intersect. She walked over to the apartment and let herself in since she knew Ellie and Awesome had early morning shifts today. She put on her best smile, grabbed the handle of his bedroom door and opened it, stepping inside.

"Hey," She said, beaming at him. He looked good. "You look nice."

There was a look on his face...she knew it well. It was shame. "Thanks. I feel like crap. I screwed up." So he'd moved past the silent despondence and was at least talking, so there was that. He was fussing with his tie in the mirror. She realized it wasn't just shame. He was mad at himself and that wasn't fair. "I severely pooched the Lazslo situation last night."

Without really thinking about it, she crossed to his side, slid in close, and began fixing his tie for him. "Yeah, well…" God, why couldn't she just talk about this? Put him at ease? "Today, you have a job interview."

Frustration sprang on his face. He turned and walked away. "Do you think I care about making lower management at a Buy More? Are you kidding me?" He sat down on his bed. "I aided and abetted the escape of the next Ted Kaczynski, Sarah." She grabbed the footstool, slid it over to him, and sat down. He was in a spiral and when he finally hit bottom it was going to be a spectacular mess. She steeled herself. This talk had to happen. "I just... I can't believe that I was so wrong about that guy. No wonder you bugged my room. I'm an absolute idiot."

And there it was.

Lazslo's stunt had swung his reaction to finding the bug in her gift to him from anger and betrayal to feeling like he deserved to be bugged, deserved to be betrayed by the government he was practically giving his entire existence to. She wasn't going to let it stand. He didn't deserve to have his trust compromised like that, even if he did tend to trust the wrong people sometimes. "Okay, that's enough of that."

"No, it isn't." She widened her eyes a bit at his tone. Even though she knew it was directed at himself and not her. "I'm an asset with government secrets that need to be protected. That shouldn't just fall on you and on Casey, Sarah. These secrets are in _my_ head. I need to take some responsibility, too. I need to be more careful, and I'm screwing up too often and too easily," Chuck replied, head hung low.

She reached over and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist. His head shot up, and he looked her in the eye. "Chuck...Chuck, I told you I wasn't involved in bugging your room, and I wasn't….well, I did but it-it wasn't intentional." His brow furrowed. She needed to get a hold of her words. He needed to really understand and trust her again. "Do you remember when I checked my room for bugs?" He nodded. She paused for a moment, not exactly weighing whether she should tell him this, but still pausing. Because this was different. Being open about things like this was just...different. Letting him in on this seedy, dark side of her job didn't exactly feel like it was the best idea...But for Chuck, somehow, it felt necessary. He did better with the truth, even if it was an unnerving truth. "I did it because I don't exactly trust the people I work with. In this line of business, you can't. I ordered that picture from the CIA, thinking it'd help with the cover and also thinking, you know, that you'd like it. The whole nerd theme. But they bugged the picture and I had no idea. You have to know I would have told you the truth, okay? If I planned on bugging your room, I'd tell you first."

Chuck looked like a weight had been taken off of his shoulders. "Thank you. I should have known you wouldn't bug me without telling me but...God, Sarah. All of this spy stuff is hard for me to figure out, really. And I felt…"

"Betrayed?" He nodded, almost shamefully. "I would have as well, especially after that talk you and I had. Trust me," she said, giving his wrist a little squeeze, "I understand. And I'm not upset with you. This time." She wrinkled her nose and got a smile out of him, a self-deprecating duck of his head that was more amused than anything.

"How do you live like that, not trusting anyone?" he asked, concern clearly written on his face.

She gave him a smile. "It hasn't been easy, but lately, I've had two partners I do trust, and that has helped, a lot."

"You trust Casey?"

Sarah snorted. "For all his bluster, you know exactly where John Casey stands." Chuck nodded. She looked over and saw the picture in the trash can and a part of her that she desperately wanted to ignore ached. She squeezed his wrist again and he looked at her. "You know, just because you trust people, it doesn't make you an idiot."

Chuck hung his head. "Yeah, well, I should've trusted you guys a little more. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."

She gave him a grin. "Again, I get it. I was furious when I found out." Her phone went off and she looked at it. She grinned at him and held it up. "Well, Casey got a signal on your car, and somehow the GPS got turned back on and Lazslo is heading east. So, I'll call you from the road. And don't worry, we're going to bring him in, Chuck." She stood and glanced at the door behind him. She had to meet Casey outside. They were bringing Lazslo in, and in doing so defusing the threat to Chuck.

But as Chuck stood before her, his shoulders still a little hunched, the line of worry creasing the plane between his eyebrows, she let that part of her she'd been ignoring take hold of her arms and wrap them around his shoulders. It was a short hug, but she felt his weight almost melt against her for just a moment. She felt the relief she'd been hoping for.

They broke apart and he gave her a heartened, closed-mouth smile.

"Are we good?" she asked him, crossing her arms, suddenly feeling a bit exposed, in spite of having a good reason to hug him—and trying to get him back to feeling more like himself, acting like himself. She was the one who felt...out of sorts now.

"We're good," he said with an emphatic nod. "Thanks, Sarah."

"Anytime, Chuck. Good luck today….Ass Man." He tried to look affronted as she giggled and walked out of the room. She promised herself she was getting him a real picture, and the CIA wouldn't have a damn thing to do with it.

}o{

He'd sat through job interviews before, and he knew he could knock this one out of the park. As the only genuine professional employee in the Buy More, the assistant manager position was his for the taking.

The fidgety ride to the Buy More wasn't because he was nervous about the interview.

Casey and Sarah were following Lazslo, chasing after him. They were going to bring him in, like Sarah said, he had no doubt. But he couldn't get his mind off of it. _Somehow the GPS got turned back on…_

Somehow…

Lazslo had known the controls of the Herder enough to take the wheel from him, literally and figuratively. He'd known how to get some B-2s in Guam to do an airstrike anywhere he wanted from the home theater room. Wouldn't he know if the car's GPS had turned back on?

But it didn't matter. Chuck wasn't a spy. The real spies were taking care of Lazslo now that he'd screwed up. They were cleaning up his mess.

That was when he spotted Morgan striding with purpose through the store with...his shirt tucked in. Since when did he…?

"Hey, Morgan! Buddy! Where were you this morning? I thought you wanted a ride in?"

Morgan turned to face him, a haughty look on his face. Oh, boy. He'd screwed this up, too, hadn't he? "Why you all dressed up?" Chuck asked his friend, but he thought he knew the answer already.

"Why are _you_ all dressed up?"

He didn't...know? About the interview? Or was he—Right, he was being snarky. Ohhh, boy.

"I have a job interview today. You know that."

"Oh. Bully for you, Chuck," Morgan sassed, and he supposed he deserved it, even if it didn't feel great. "You think you're the only one at the Buy More who cares about looking professional?" He gave a mocking sniff. "Typical."

"I never—I never said anything…" But he didn't finish explaining, because Morgan was already walking away, holding a hand up like he didn't want to hear it. Right. Great. Another mess he was going to have to fix.

He took his wallet out of his back pocket, deciding to forget it for now, not let it weigh him down, and deal with it after his interview… But as he went to swipe his employee card to get behind the Nerd Herd desk, someone standing behind him barked, "BOO!"

Chuck screamed, dropped his wallet, and spun on his heel.

God, Harry Tang couldn't even pull off a shitty cowboy costume. The asshole.

"Did I scare ya, Chuck?" he growled, probably thinking he was Clint Eastwood or something. Asshole. "You better be scared…'Cause I'm about ready to kiiiill me a job interview…Partner. Kapow," he whispered, shooting him with finger guns.

Chuck just stared at him. "Mhm, really killed that Eastwood impression," he muttered as Tang left him alone again. "Asshole," he added, picking up his wallet.

His eye froze on the doodle he'd stuck in his wallet after the pancakes last night. He'd almost forgotten about it… It had reminded him of the skeletons from Prince of Persia. He straightened up and pulled the napkin with the doodle back out of the money slot where he'd stuffed it, looking at it again. Yep. Definitely Prince of Persia.

But then he felt that tingle at the back of his head. He flashed on the drawing, the image of Santa Monica Pier laying perfectly over the shape of the skeletons Lazslo had doodled. He saw a flash of Lazslo's file again, and he immediately realized why everything had seemed so...off.

 _Somehow the GPS got turned back on…_

Lazslo turned it on. He'd tricked them.

He was going to the pier. The pier was in trouble, and… oh God no.

Chuck grabbed his phone and called Sarah immediately, already rushing towards the exit.

She answered before the first ring even finished. "Chuck—"

"Lazslo is not headed east. He's going to the Santa Monica Pier."

"Yeah, you don't say," she muttered drily. He could hear abject frustration in her tone. "We just found the GPS downtown. Lazslo ripped it out and stuck it on a big rig."

Shit. He should've said something when he was first suspicious. "Look, he was casing the arcade. It's where he was first recruited. There's a huge Halloween party there every year and I think he's gonna try to blow it up."

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"

Chuck spun, hanging up and sticking his phone back in his pocket as he saw Big Mike pointing his pimp cane in his direction. It was...weirdly enough not the strangest moment in his life. "Um...you…" He wracked his brain. "Hey! Hey, uh...Can I—Can I borrow another Herder?"

"All the Herders are out. You've got an interview this afternoon, or did you forget?"

"No. No, I just...Something came up." As if that ever worked with a boss.

"Oh? Something more important than being an assistant manager?" Big Mike asked. "Is it more important than handing your promotion over to Tang?" The way he said that made Chuck wonder if Big Mike hated the asshole Harry Tang too. "Man, Chuck! Is it more important than Big Mike's relaxation?" That sealed it. Yep.

He wasn't making excuses this time. There were a lot of people out on that pier right now, and their lives were in danger. This place, this job...None of this was as important as saving those people. And he was tired of pretending.

"Look, Big Mike, there are just some things that are more important than the Buy More."

Chuck sprinted in the other direction. He had to find a way to get to that pier before the whole thing ended up at the bottom of the sea, a lot of innocent people going down with it.

As he burst out of the Buy More, he spun to look left and right. There were so many cars...so so so many cars. He couldn't use any of them. But then he saw the bicycle leaned up against the outer wall… He'd told Morgan before...he needed to stop just leaning it places. He needed to freaking lock that thing, actually use the bike racks…

But at the moment, he was so grateful for his best friend's laziness.

He grabbed the bike, nearly shoving someone to the side to get to it, jumped on and began peddling.

Chuck didn't know how long he rode on that bike, but it was long enough. He just kept going, finding himself nearly getting hit by at least four different cars in four different instances… He was on a mission, though. And he didn't know if Sarah and Casey were headed towards the pier or not, or if they'd get there first… But he needed to try.

By the time he skidded to a halt outside of the pier arcade, dropping Morgan's bike and staggering through the throngs of people, he was so tired his legs felt like jelly, his heart racing. He couldn't breathe properly. He couldn't breathe improperly. He simply couldn't…

But he had to.

He grabbed people in costumes, trying to find Lazslo.

He wouldn't blow up the arcade, it wasn't actually _on_ the pier… It wouldn't do as much damage, or cause as many casualties. This guy was batshit crazy, he'd go for the jugular. He'd attack the structure itself. And there was no better way to do that than to swipe its legs right out from under it.

Chuck sprinted down onto the beach, angling for the underside of the pier.

And that was where he found the stolen Herder. He staggered up to it, noticing the hood was open, and he looked inside. He'd seen one bomb before, a month ago...that first night that had started as a date and ended with his life being flipped on its head.

The timer was stuck at a minute...or an hour. He hoped an hour. But it hadn't been triggered yet. It just sat there...but where was…?

"I meant to tell you earlier about your car's self-destruct function."

Chuck spun on his heels at the sound of Lazslo's voice, spotting him casually sitting, leaning against the pier's pilings, pilings he obviously had a mind to destroy, killing thousands in the process.

"One of my more inspired designs," the fugitive said, getting to his feet with a spry hop and closing the distance between them.

"Lazslo, listen…" He'd reason with him. He'd get him to stop this, give himself up. He could do that, right? They were similar. He wasn't a mass murdering crazy man, but they were similar in other ways…

"Relax, Chuck," Lazslo chirped, tossing the Herder keys through the air towards him. "It's all yours," he said as Chuck caught the keys.

There was an unnerving sound that came from the Herder as he caught them. He glanced at the timer and saw it had started to count down—Shit, it wasn't an hour. It was a minute. A button on the key fob was blinking. "What'd you do?" he asked, still breathless from the marathon bike ride.

" _YOU_ just armed a bomb," Lazslo said, not seeming at all worried about that. Had he come out here today, sat under the pier, and just waited for Chuck to figure it all out and show up so that they could die here together? What kind of ruthless stereotypical villain shit was this?

"It'll take a good hour for you to figure out the fingerprint recognition system."

Chuck watched it hit the forty second mark. He was most likely going to die today. He turned to look at Lazslo. "Why're you doing this?" he demanded.

"What? Blowing stuff up?" He shrugged. "That's what bad guys do, Chuck. Besides...how else was I gonna punish them for what they did to me?"

"Killing innocent people? None of the people who put you in a bunker are here, Lazslo! None of them! You think it's gonna change _anything_ if a thousand people die today? You think the people who put you in a bunker are going to stop putting people in bunkers or care that they put you in one? This accomplishes nothing. You're just a _bad person_ , Lazslo. And you're a coward. You're weak and a coward."

Just as he finished, his phone rang. Lazslo wasn't about to tell him whether or not he could answer his phone this time. He whipped his phone open, looking pointedly at the stricken bomber as he did so. "Yeah?"

"Hey!" Casey snapped. "Someone just armed the Herder to self-destruct."

"Yeah," he said, feeling hopelessness start to rise in his chest, like a bubble wedged behind his ribcage, growing, filling with emptiness. "I know. It was me."

"Where are you?" Casey barked.

"The pilings." He hung up the phone and shoved it back in his pocket, spinning on Lazslo. "Disarm the bomb right now!"

"You disarm the bomb!" What, was this guy twelve years old? Seriously?

He didn't take the bait. "How?" he demanded.

"It's easy." Lazslo grabbed pliers and slapped them into Chuck's palm. "Cut the wire."

Oh, hell no. Chuck had seen so many movies like this. Nothing about this was easy. Wrong wire meant boom. But he wouldn't just stand by and do nothing. He spun to look down at the bomb, leaning closer, eyeing the wires. Red and green. Of course. Of fucking course.

"Which one?" he asked.

"Red one," Lazslo said a little too easily. He leaned down, poising to cut the red wires… But no because it was actually way too easy. Like a set-up. Like he'd been preparing for Chuck to do this. "YOU GOTTA CUT A WIRE, CHUCK!"

"WOULD YOU STOP?! WHAT IF I CUT BOTH OF 'EM?!" Chuck belted back, losing his chill really fast here. Twenty six...twenty five…

"Oh, like Sean Connery at the end of _Goldfinger_?"

Chuck froze at that, slowly turning his head to narrow his eyes at the bomber. "What'd you just say?"

"Cut the wire, Chuck. The red wire."

"You said you didn't know who Q was, that you'd never seen _Goldfinger_. So how would you know what Bond does at the end of that movie?" He knew the answer. This guy was a total asshole.

"Cut the wire or we're dead."

That was what he wanted, wasn't it? "You lied to me, Lazslo. Ten times over. You knew I'd believe you when you said you just wanted to live a normal, peaceful life. You knew I'd believe you about cutting the wire, too, but you were wrong, Lazslo."

"CHUCK!"

He saw Sarah and Casey slide into view, their guns pulled. He met Sarah's eye for a moment. "Wait! Wait, stay back. S'a bomb! There's a bomb…"

She looked ready to charge in, but Casey put his hand in front of her to stop her. He didn't have time to analyze that before Lazslo interrupted the mini-reunion with a crazed, "CUT THE RED WIRE, CHUCK!"

Oh fuck no. He knew exactly what to do. And without blinking, he turned back to the bomb, seeing ten seconds were left, and cut the green wire with seven on the clock. The countdown stalled with a quiet beep.

He did it. He let out a relieved half-laugh, as much as he could, with how tired he was, his lungs still not working entirely…

And then he straightened up, pliers still in hand as Casey and Sarah carefully closed in on Lazslo, their guns on him.

"You're under arrest," Casey said, holstering his gun and taking handcuffs out. Lazslo gave him one last look, a look Chuck couldn't really read, and then he was carted away by the NSA agent.

Sarah was there then, putting a hand on his bicep, squeezing, forcing him to look at her. There was awe in her face as she met his gaze, and then she slid her hand to his chest and looked him over quickly, as if to check he hadn't been hurt. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Y-Yeah. Uh...Yeah."

She studied him for a long moment, and then she went into her pocket and pulled her phone out, calling in the Herder, telling them that Lazslo Mahnovski was apprehended and in their custody. When she pocketed her phone not a minute later, she came back to him.

Almost as if on autopilot, he slapped the pliers into her palm. "Here. I turned off this car bomb. I also rode, like, a trillion miles on a bicycle that I stole from my best friend who's pissed at me. If we could get that bike back, wherever the hell I left it, that'd be good. But right now I think I might legitimately faint, so if we could just… And there I go."

He collapsed with exhaustion at her feet, and he required a good amount of assistance to get back to the SUV.

}o{

Chuck knew the interview was long past, he'd missed it hours ago. He'd had to endure an awkward, exhausted ride in the SUV after they waited for a team to arrive to pick Lazslo Mahnovski up and take him to what was now going to be an underground prison cell, which was a lot worse than a lab. And there would be no video games there.

But he still made Casey drop him off at the Buy More after they finished up at the pier, the bicycle strapped to the top of the government issued SUV. Maybe there was something he might be able to salvage. He'd at least try.

It was all he could do…

He walked in to find Jeff and Lester standing near the entrance, dressed as American Pastoral. Jesus Christ, these two…

Instead of saying anything snarky, they just lifted their hands with a simultaneous "Hey, Chuck", and walked away. That was his first clue that things were bad.

Oh shit, and there was Harry Tang. "Nice costume, Chuck!" The hubris was seeping out of him and Chuck knew why. He'd blown it. Not just for himself, but for everyone else at the store. And for Ellie. He'd really blown it. "What are you supposed to be?" Harry asked, sauntering over with a clipboard in hand. "Oh, that's right… My employee." He snickered.

Chuck was too tired to do anything but roll his eyes.

"Are you gonna congratulate me? You did hear I got the job."

"Uncontested. Yeah. Nice work, Harry," he said sarcastically, looking down at the half-assed cowboy.

"Anyhow...Now that you're here, I wanted to talk to you about some organizational ideas I had…" Chuck didn't care what the hell kind of anything Harry Tang had as he glanced around the store. He didn't hear anything else Harry said as he walked away, ignoring the weak man yelling after him.

And then Anna slid up next to him. "Hey, did Morgan ever find you? I thought the guy was gonna lose it."

Chuck winced and let out a tired sigh. "No, I-I know, he was really looking forward to the Buy More costume contest," he said distractedly, still walking as she rushed to keep up with him.

"I'm talking about what he did for you." That got him to stop. He turned around to face her, his brow furrowed. She looked annoyed with him, disappointed in him even. "He gave this whole big speech to the HR guy. He was trying to get him to give you the assistant manager job. He was in there for almost an hour trying to save this whole mess. Save all of us, but mostly you."

Chuck frowned. "Morgan did that for me?"

"Yeah. And then someone went and stole his bike. What kind of loser would steal a guy's bike?"

Him. Oh God. Shit. It was him. He'd stolen Morgan's bike. He was the worst best friend. He was the _worst_. He owed Morgan the biggest damn apology in the world. Without responding to Anna, he broke out into a sprint, somehow mustering the endurance from someplace miraculous to get back on the damn bike and start peddling for home.

Where he knew he'd find not only Morgan, but Ellie, too. He had a lot of apologies to make, explanations...and he had no idea what he was going to say…

}o{

Still wondering if he could somehow get away with telling his family he'd just saved thousands of people from exploding at the Santa Monica Pier by cutting the right wire, and that was why he'd failed them today on a massive scale, Chuck staggered into the courtyard where the Halloween party was in full swing.

Morgan wasn't in the courtyard, so he burst into his apartment, scanning the room for him. He spotted his little buddy sitting at the bar, alone on a stool, the back end of the sandworm hanging from suspenders on his shoulders, a glum look on his face.

When he glanced up and caught Chuck's eye, he pushed off of the stool and landed on his feet, meeting him in the middle of the living room. Maybe it was a weird sibling thing, but he could feel Ellie at his elbow, a few feet away. Then he saw in his peripheral as she subtly moved away, giving him the space she could probably see he needed with Morgan for a second. He knew she wanted to ask about the job.

She'd have to wait though as Morgan said, "I didn't think you were comin'. Everybody thinks I'm a slug, man. The costume doesn't work without the head."

"I'm sorry. I got held up," he responded, breathless. He owed Morgan way more of a sorry than that, though. "You came through for me today when I dropped the ball, buddy. You came through. Just like always."

"Nah, it-it didn't work. Harry got the job."

"That's on me. That's on me, Morgan. Okay? And I'm really sorry about that, but you are the real deal." He pushed his closed fist against Morgan's shoulder affectionately. "And, uh, listen, buddy, I think you should be the head this year."

The bearded one's eyes got big. And then he looked doubtful. "Really? I—"

"Hell, yeah."

It took them less than a minute to grab the head from Chuck's bedroom fit it onto Morgan, and get Chuck into the tail. And then they burst out into the hallway, earning cheers as they danced through the living room.

Chuck thought he heard his sister's good-natured groan and Devon's "AWESOME!" through the cheers, and he even saw Morgan trip a little on the edge of the table as they emerged through the apartment door into the courtyard.

But like the true hero he was, he righted himself and kept dancing. They made a few rounds through the courtyard, spurred on by the excitement of the partygoers, when he heard Ellie's voice.

"Chuck! Chuck, hey!" Oh, she was going for the head. "Honey...honey…"

"He's in the back!" Morgan called out. Chuck figured he'd make it easier on everybody and he lifted the tail off of his head, revealing himself, eyeing his sister.

"Uh, hey...hey, sis…"

"How did it go?" she asked, excitedly. As if she knew how it went. As if she knew he'd gotten the job. In spite of everything, Ellie Bartowski would always have more faith in him than he deserved. It was probably bias.

"The short version is that I...didn't get the job." He watched disbelief come over her features, and then confusion.

"What?"

"I...kinda...um, skipped out on the interview."

Ellie was gobsmacked, upset… And she didn't seem to know what to say as she breathed out a, "Why?"

Chuck was trying to figure out what to say when he suddenly felt someone at his shoulder. And then…

"It was my fault."

He spun to his right at the sound of Sarah's voice. Morgan muttered a, "h'oohhh my Goddd", which perfectly voiced what immediately came to Chuck's mind.

Agent Sarah Walker was dressed as Leia from Star Wars, just like in the picture that had been doctored by the bug planting CIA people. But this wasn't some other woman's body her head was superimposed onto. It was Sarah, with the brown and gold bikini top, her toned, tan abdomen on full display, the skirt and the jingly thingies...Her hair braided like—and how was her hair the hottest thing somehow? What was—Her entire torso was practically naked and the fact that she got the braid so perfect had him seriously going.

"I, uh, I had a personal emergency. A crisis even. And uh, Chuck-Chuck really came through," she said, turning to look at him. God, that braid. Yes, she was currently saving his ass big time, but that damn braid. "He probably wouldn't admit it, but your brother is incredible." He felt his mouth twitch in a bit of a smile. "He's a hero." She looked right into his eyes when she said that.

He couldn't stop himself from showing her the absolute awe he felt, the disbelief. How she'd just showed up looking like this at the perfect time to seriously save his ass. He knew the look on his face was stupidly dreamy, but _she_ was stupidly dreamy. So dreamy it was downright stupid.

Chuck couldn't just duck back into the sandworm after this. "Would you excuse us?" he asked them, and he gestured for Morgan to head back into the worm. They ducked back inside and looked at each other in the darkness. "Hey, uh...uh, buddy...you mind if we take maybe a five minute break?"

"You kiddin' me? Take ten if you need it."

The meaning wasn't lost on Chuck, and that really wasn't where he wanted his mind to be right now. Not with the superwoman act Sarah'd just put on, and definitely not with the braid she'd twisted into those long blond locks of hers.

Chuck gave Morgan a smile and got out of the worm, handing it to Morgan. "S-Sorry, sis. We'll, uh, we'll be right out, 'kay?"

He could tell she had a lot of questions, but she wasn't upset. She was just smiling at him, then at Sarah, then back at him. "Just...just a sec," he said to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"God, why are you so sweaty? Did you ride a bike here?"

"Uh, yep! Yes, actually!" He turned and gave Sarah a wide-eyed look, earning an amused smirk, and she reached out to take his hand, letting him lead her back into the apartment, through the hallway and towards his bedroom.

"Thanks for saving my ass," he breathed back at her and she smiled.

"The least I could do. Just glad I got here in time _to_ save your ass."

"Uh, yeah, me too."

They both chuckled and he opened the door, letting her in first. He followed after her and shut the door behind him. "So, uh...um, where'd you get the costume?" he asked. And he noticed the way she'd left her purse on his bed, the side he tended not to sleep on.

That didn't matter. She was going into her purse to get something out. "Well, the CIA can make anything."

"Y-Yeah, and the-the braid. It's…" He swallowed, drying his hands on the front of his shirt and squirming a little. Maybe he shouldn't talk about the braid.

"Is it close enough to hers? There aren't a lot of shots of the back of her head on the Internet. It was hard to see the ones that _were_ there, so I-I did my best. Is it okay?"

"God, yes." He nearly clamped his hands over his mouth. He hadn't meant for it to sound that way. Maybe she wouldn't read into it. But she seemed to be too focused on...the camera she'd just taken out of her purse.

He stopped next to her and stuck his hands in his pocket, eyeing the camera. "What are you, uh, what are you doing?" he asked, smirking a little, furrowing his brow.

"Uhh...smile!" She sidled up next to him and stretched her arm out with the camera lens facing them.

Chuck grinned a little, still confused. She looked very pleased with herself, though, as she nudged his shoulder with hers and murmured, "Smile".

He chuckled and faced the camera, smiling as ordered. And then he watched as she stepped away from him, turning the camera and looking at the result with a smaller smile he couldn't read.

"I, uh, I wanted to give you a new photo of us. And I figured this time that it...should be something...real." The halting way she said that, her eyes glancing off to the side instead of meeting his, made him think she maybe didn't do things like this often. Maybe he was just making assumptions and she did. He didn't really know, but he felt a warmth in his chest.

"Well, geez, Sarah...You managed to find that outfit but couldn't even muster up a Han vest? If we're trying to recreate the photoshopped picture, after all…" He let a slow, crooked smile grow on his face and she looked at him for a long moment before a grin broke over her own pretty features and she giggled.

"I wasn't necessarily trying to recreate it. I just wanted it to be us. No photoshopping. Just the real...us. You and me." She shrugged one shoulder and the braid shifted a little and he thought it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Was she...shy? Agent Walker...shy?

They met gazes and he wasn't sure what to say.

And then, "CHUCK!"

He turned on his heel as Morgan appeared at his window. It was then that he heard the chant of "SANDWORM! SANDWORM! SANDWORM!" in the courtyard.

"They're callin' for the worm, bruh," Morgan said, seeming to have his zest for life back. He looked fired up, even. He wanted to… He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he wanted Sarah to be involved in it, whatever it was.

But then she pressed herself against his back and slid both of her hands around his bicep, a smile and amusement in her voice as she muttered, "I'll, uh, see you outside. And maybe do a little more Ellie interference," she added more quietly near his ear.

Chuck turned to watch as she pulled away from him, walking through his room. She glanced at him as she rounded his bed and he still felt that dreamy look on his face but he just couldn't help it as he heard Morgan clamber in the window and sit on the sill. Chuck blindly reached back to grab his chair and set it across from Morgan as Sarah glanced back one last time at the door to smile at them before heading out into the hallway, disappearing from sight.

"What're you guys, uh, what're you guys talkin' about?" Morgan asked, then, eyes still on the door.

"Oh, nothin'. She's, uh, pickin' up where you left off and going to bat for me." His gaze then fell on the lamp next to his bed and an evil thought came to mind.

"What was that crisis you helped her with?"

"I can't tell ya. That's...you know, that's her thing," he said, shaking his head. "Her private thing."

"No, no. I get ya. Girlfriend HIPAA."

"Actually! You'll be interested to hear this, I think, Morgan…" And Chuck was sure Casey would be excited about it, too. "Sarah thinks she's less of a Mary Jane and more of a Lois Lane."

"What? But that's not fair. She's jumping from Marvel to DC. And anyway, if we're going DC, she's obviously Vicki Vale. It's how I first labeled her. Remember?"

"Yeeeah, but she thinks I'm more of a Clark than a Bruce."

Morgan gasped, obviously affronted. "Is she even slightly familiar with these characters? You're way more of a Bruce—"

And as he continued, Chuck imagined a certain NSA agent's head exploding. It brought him some joy at the end of an incredibly long day.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review if you have the time. Thanks! 'Til next we meet.

-SC and DC


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N:** Real life has made it difficult for us to update as often. Thanks for still reading in spite of that. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making any money writing this. We are writing it for free. You are reading it for free.

* * *

Chuck was on the phone, bored out of his mind. Morgan sidled up to him. "Psst, Chuck, we have an emergency. We need to talk."

"I'm on the phone, Morgan," Chuck replied.

"Shh," he whispered almost violently. He looked left, than right, and then finally back to Chuck "Not here, not here. There are spies at the Buy More." Sarah walked by as Morgan said it, and she rolled her eyes, grinning at Chuck. Morgan never noticed her, but Chuck did. She was dressed in a blue top, and it really made her eyes pop… Was that a thing?

Chuck grinned, trying to come back to reality, and turned around to his buddy. "Spies? Really? Or, or, maybe, just maybe you've had too much grape soda."

Morgan looked affronted. "Tang's minions, man. They're everywhere. He's like Sauron from Lord of the Rings. Only, he's taken control of the assistant managership." Morgan's eyes got wide when he said the last part.

Chuck hung up the phone. "Yeah, from me. Right, thanks for the reminder."

Morgan's eyes got wide as they tracked something over Chuck's shoulder, and then he shoved a paper into Chuck's hands and ran off.

"Seen Morgan, Chuck?" Harry asked.

"I think he saw someone needing assistance and hurried off after the customer," Chuck lied.

"He's got potential, you know, I just had to get him away from you." Tang sipped his coffee, staring at Chuck.

"Away from me…. You know what, Harry? Go...do whatever you do."

"Casey," Harry said, snapping his fingers as the big man approached. Chuck's eyes widened. He was trying not to laugh at Casey obviously holding back from murdering the smaller man. "I saw someone by the Beastmasters." Casey grinned and took off. Harry gave Chuck a look and went off to do whatever it was that Harry Tang did.

Chuck picked up the paper Morgan had thrust at him and looked at it. "Rules and regulations for the Buy More break room. From the desk of Harry Tang?"

"Whatcha doing, Chuck?" came Sarah's voice beside him. He jumped, throwing the paper in the air. She snatched it out of midair and looked at it. "From the desk of Harry Tang?"

"He doesn't even have a desk," Chuck said spinning around in his chair. "Do we have a 'ahem' date that I don't know about, because that is not Wienerlicious attire." She gave him a look, but the grin fought through. "I mean you are beautiful in anything, but that blouse really compliments your eyes...you know...if you were looking for a piece of clothing that might get a guy to compliment you on your eyes. You're seriously gonna let me hang myself with this, aren't you?"

"Not only that, but I'll provide you the rope," Sarah replied, grinning. "Anything wrong?"

"You mean other than me shoving my whole leg in my mouth?" Chuck replied.

She bounced a shoulder. "You didn't. Thank you for what you said."

Chuck grinned at her and again had to fight down the feelings inside of him. It wouldn't do either of them any good. "Please let me come work at the Wienerlicious."

"I already told you that you don't have the legs for the outfit," Sarah replied, reading the 'New and Improved Buy More Rules'.

"Scooter doesn't have to wear that outfit," Chuck retorted.

"We only have one pants outfit," she replied, not really paying attention to him. "This is an affront to human decency."

"The rules, or only having one pants outfit?"

"Focus Chuck," Sarah said, waving the list. "What is happening here is much more important than the way your legs look in an outfit." Chuck was having trouble keeping a straight face. "No swearing," she read, and shook her head. "Okay, that's not a problem, and no one is going to follow it, but no expectorating? No fornicating? You have to make these rules?" She looked at him. "Wait, have people been getting freaky in the break room?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Have you been cheating on me in the break room?"

Chuck panicked. "No! No, no…." he calmed down when he saw her smirk, and began to giggle, bouncing her finger at him. "Damn it, you got me again."

"Uh uh, no swearing."

Chuck, grinning, took the list from her hands while she was laughing.

She sobered up, and Chuck's mouth spoke before his brain caught up. "There's a room in the back for that," Chuck said softly, and then winced. He shouldn't say things like that to her. Yeah they were friends, but was it too much? He quickly put those thoughts aside as she burst out laughing at him. "Oh, wait…" he said, understanding Morgan's problems now as he closely inspected the list. "Oh, this is not good."

"You want to have that option, just in case?" Chuck looked over at her, and she was nearly red from trying to hold in the laugh.

"No, this is bad," Chuck said, pointing to the fine print of the drug policy. "The no-drug policy includes Red Bull. The last time Morgan tried to detox…." he trailed off. "It was inspiring how the little bearded man tried to move electronics with the sweaty shakes."

"I'm not sure which would be a scarier sight, Morgan detoxing, or Morgan over-caffeinated," Sarah replied. Chuck shuddered.

"I'm sorry you two, but is this the Talk More?" Harry said coming up behind them. Both of them looked over at him. "It's the Buy More. So why don't you get back to helping _paying_ customers?"

Sarah glared at him. "Well, I was thinking about having Chuck install all the new electronics that corporate was gonna buy at the Wienerlicious, but I guess I could always enlist the help of someone at Large Mart..."

"Miss Walker, I apologize," Harry said, trying to kiss her ass. "You have to understand, so many employees here are out for themselves, but not the Buy More. My humblest apologies." Harry scampered off.

"You know, of all the amazing bad ass things I've seen you do, THAT might have been the most bad ass thing I have ever seen," Chuck said in awe.

Sarah waved her hand. "You're easily impressed," Sarah replied. Chuck's mouth dropped and she giggled. "But seriously, is Harry wearing a new assistant-manager polo shirt?"

"It's monogrammed," Chuck replied.

"He must be stopped," Sarah muttered. Chuck nodded.

Casey ran by. "Tell the general just a minute, I've nearly got another guy buying a Beastmaster."

Chuck and Sarah shared a look. "I think he's taking the cover a bit too seriously," Chuck said.

Sarah shrugged. "Never let it be said that John Casey does anything half-assed."

}o{

Sarah took Chuck by the hand and led him back to the home theater room.

"Look, I have no problem with people thinking I'm constantly getting lucky with you back here, it really helps my street cred," Chuck whispered.

"I'll say," Sarah replied, grinning.

He stopped and turned, looking at her. He looked around to make sure they were alone. When he looked at her, something in Sarah flipped. Something that wasn't supposed to be flipping. "Sarah, I know it's just a cover, but…"

She gave him a smile. "Chuck, I understand, and it's fine." She gave him a grin and a little shrug. "You are a perfect gentleman, and I don't care what they think we're doing. It helps keep you safe, and I suspect there are several out there who are jealous of me." She squeezed his hand and started towards the theater room, but he wasn't moving.

"Wait...wha?"

She came back to him, fighting the smile.

"Chuck," she said softly. "You are warm, kind, and considerate. You put others first all the time, and ANY girl knows they would be lucky to have a guy like you in their life. Now, you and I know what's really happening, but I have no problem others thinking I'm infatuated with you and want to be alone with you. All I'm doing is helping solidify that illusion. And, I enjoy our talks on the way to the briefings, I always learn the strangest things."

"Such as?" Chuck asked.

"Star Trek II was originally going to be named, The Vengeance of Khan, but LucasArts, who handled special effects for the movie, rejected the name because it sounded to much like the name of their upcoming movie The Revenge of the Jedi...spoiler alert, LucasArts changed the movie to Return of the Jedi." Chuck bit into his fist, and collapsed to the ground. She grinned, spun, and headed to the theater room.

Chuck walked in a few seconds later, while she was trying not to grin. "Wow," he said, looking at the TV. "That new High-Def screen sure shows every wrinkle."

Sarah's eyes got wide as he sat down beside her. "They can hear you," she whispered, not moving her lips.

"What?" He looked at the screen and Beckman was staring at him. "Twinkle," he said quickly and smiled sweetly. "Every twinkle in her eye. Eyes." Sarah cut her eyes over at him, and couldn't stop herself from thinking, _I'm not protecting you from her wrath even though you're cute._

"Where is Agent Casey?" Beckman asked.

"Selling a Beastmaster," Chuck replied. Beckman blinked. "It's Harry Tang, he's out of control."

"Does he need to be dealt with?" Beckman asked.

"WHAT? No! No, God, no I mean he's annoying but...isn't that a bit extreme?" Chuck was going pale.

Sarah placed a hand on his arm to calm him. "Transferred Chuck...transferred. There are thousands of other Buy Mores."

"Mr. Bartowski, we don't have people assassinated willy nilly," Beckman replied. Sarah caught the look on Graham's face. Maybe the NSA didn't….

"You know there might be an easier way. I could get a new job," Chuck said, pulling Sarah out of her thoughts. She turned slowly to look at him.

"Agent Walker," Beckman said. Sarah turned toward Beckman. "I don't think Mr. Bartowski has the legs for your work uniform."

"I told him the same thing, General," Sarah replied with a straight face.

Chuck's mouth dropped open and looked from Sarah to Beckman. "Wrinkles my ass," the older woman muttered.

Casey burst into the room. "Sorry General, another sale."

"Well done, Major," Beckman replied. She addressed the room. "We have a situation. A CIA asset has gone missing." Sarah didn't miss the look Beckman gave Graham. What that look meant, she had no idea. "We've had no communication from him for two days." A photograph appeared on screen.

"No way," Chuck muttered.

Sarah turned to him and eyed him steadily. She hadn't seen the flash. "What, did you flash?"

"No, I don't have to," Chuck replied. "That guy was my professor at Stanford." Wait….what the hell? No, what the actual hell? Chuck had a professor that recruited students into the CIA at Stanford? This was getting preposterous. Casey gave Sarah a look. "Wait," Chuck said. "Asset...he's CIA? My professor was a spy?"

"The CIA recruits on campuses across the country," Sarah explained. Bryce was at Stanford, knew Chuck at Stanford, Chuck had a CIA professor at Stanford, and he was kicked out of Stanford. Her spy senses were going off. Something didn't make a damn bit of sense. "Professor Fleming is a company scientist, not an operative."

"A what?" Chuck asked.

"Typically they analyze data and send in their findings. If it's actionable, an operative reacts to whatever the scientist found," Sarah replied.

"What the hell is he doing at Stanford?" Chuck asked, even more confused.

"Recruiting," Sarah replied. "His job was to observe students and find those he believed would help the CIA. He also was good at observing hostiles that might infiltrate college campuses."

"This is our last communication from him," Graham said, cutting in. Sarah wondered, what did Graham know?

"This is Glass Castle reporting hostile contact," the transmission said. "I made a mistake, Black Coat. I copied intel for myself onto a disc. They're after it. I know I shouldn't have." The transmission ended.

"Do we know what intel he copied?" Sarah asked.

"We don't." Beckman replied.

"He's handled many sensitive projects for us. Any leak could prove devastating," Graham added.

"How can we help?" Casey asked.

"Fleming has contacts in L.A. If we find him, you can extract him," Graham answered.

"We'd like your help on this, Chuck," Beckman added.

Sarah was already trying to think about where to start. Having Chuck would be key, and could help the search. A CIA scientist was out in the wind. Granted, it didn't exactly fall into the parameters of this being her last mission, but leaving someone behind, someone out in the cold, wasn't something Sarah Walker did. That's why she was stunned to see the look on his face.

The lack of self-esteem she had talked about earlier, it was back, and with friends. He looked...smaller. He looked...less sure. He looked…. He looked worse than that first day she saw him at the Nerd Herd desk. She didn't know what happened at Stanford, exactly, but there was more than he told her.

"Look, I don't think I'm your go-to guy on this one." The way Chuck said it, softly, like something inside of him had broken again….

"Your knowledge of Fleming and Stanford is key here," Graham said in a tone Sarah recognized. She turned toward the monitor and steeled her features not to give anything away. He was going to use Chuck for his benefit, damn the consequences. "We only have his official reports. You have a personal connection." _Damn you, Graham_.

"Yeah, I do have a personal connection. Very bad personal connection. You guys have the file. You know all about Fleming and what happened to me. The guy kicked me out of school."

Sarah hated herself, but she knew what she had to do. "Professor Fleming is one of us." She said it in a tone to let him know, she hoped, that she hated this but that it had to be done.

"Maybe you can find somebody else to help you this time," he said, looking straight ahead and not at her, like he thought he was disappointing her. "Maybe just this once." He got up and walked out, having never looked at her. Sarah glanced at Casey who had a smirk on his face...like he was proud of Chuck for standing his ground. Knowing Casey, he probably was.

"Agent Walker," Graham began.

"Director, you could have warned us," Sarah said, cutting him off.

"I thought you controlled your assets better than that," Graham rebutted.

"That's no typical asset," Casey replied. "That asset has saved our asses and done all he can for us, Director. He is also a civilian who's had life kicking him in the pants for too long. Agent Walker has been helping him fight back, control his life, which has made him better able to help us and more confident in the way he utilizes the Intersect...and then you dump this in his lap? What do you expect him to do? Agent Walker is one hundred percent right. A heads up could have saved us all a lot of grief on this one."

Beckman fought a smile and Graham looked pissed.

"Perhaps...perhaps you're right," Graham finally conceded.

"I'll talk to him," Sarah said. "I make no promises though, especially with the way you delivered the mission."

"I hear you, Agent," Graham said. Sarah swore Beckman's eyes were twinkling as she cut the feed.

Sarah turned to Casey. "Fight back? Control his life?"

"Oh, utter bullshit," Casey replied, chuckling. "But that was bullshit the way they dumped that in his lap. Looks like you're on asset duty again, I'll begin research."

"Casey, any idea what happened at Stanford?"

"No, but a bottle of Johnny Walker says we'll both know by the time this one is over."

}o{

Chuck heard the hubbub in the courtyard before he and Sarah even walked through the gate. He heard Awesome's voice above the rest, bellowing a loud, "Bro, go long!" and he had a bad feeling. He was already tired and he had a feeling he'd be even more tired after he walked through whatever the hell this gathering was.

"What's going on in there?" Sarah asked, tensing at his elbow.

"I don't know, but I don't have a good feeling about it." When she sent him a look, as if wordlessly asking if she should be worried, he shook his head and smirked. "Sounds like Awesome's throwin' a get-together or something."

"Oh." She loosened up as they walked in.

A group of Awesome clones were staggered through the courtyard, having beers, throwing a football… He wondered if their landlord even cared that they'd made this whole place pretty much theirs at this point.

He spotted Ellie over by the fountain and approached her as she caught sight of him and smiled, giving Sarah an excited little wave with the hand that wasn't holding a beer. "Who invited the UCLA brain trust?" he asked, gesturing to her boyfriend and his friends.

Ellie didn't even react to his teasing. "Those are Devon's fraternity brothers." She moved onto her tiptoes to glance over his shoulder and took a swig from her beer. "We are caravan-ing up to Stanford for the UCLA game this weekend, actually. It's gonna be, um...fun." She sent Sarah a shared-joke eye roll.

Chuck made a face, raising his eyebrows. That sounded super un-fun. The un-funnest. But at least he'd have the place to himself for a few days. Well, sort of. The government would be there in bug-form.

"Hey, Chuck!" He turned to see Captain Awesome in the corner, beaming at him with a football in his hands. "Go deep, bro!"

"Nah, that's cool. Thanks, though."

"Go! C'mon! I know you can catch, let's go!"

Chuck jogged a little away and turned back as the football sailed over his head. He didn't know why he didn't just let it go. It was like he saw the thing and a trigger went off. He leapt forward for it and found the toe of his shoe had caught on the edge of the planter, sending him sprawling onto his face. He watched from his place on the ground as the football landed and mockingly bounced in the other direction, before making a little circle and stopping right in front of his face.

"Ooooooo!" Awesome was kneeling next to him. "Hey, listen. I appreciate the sheer effort, bro. You went for it. Respect."

"That means nothing to me right now," Chuck murmured, hoping he hadn't wrecked his uniform pants. These dumb slacks were expensive. He let Awesome help him back to his feet, both he and Ellie who'd hurried up to him brushing him off. His pants were okay. No harm, no foul, he supposed. But he refused to look at Sarah after that epic fail. Maybe it was middle school of him, but why the hell'd that have to happen in front of her?

"Well, maybe this'll mean somethin'." The doctor fished a ticket out of his back pocket. "I gotcha a ticket for the game." He beamed proudly.

Chuck felt Ellie's presence at his elbow acutely. And he also remembered the talks they'd had about Awesome making a genuine effort to be closer. Not that they weren't close! It was more like she'd enlisted her boyfriend to get Chuck involved in more than just work and video games. It felt condescending, but...she meant well. "Oh, yeah...wow...well, thanks. Thanks, but um…" He wracked his brain for something that would put them off. A-ha! ...His girlfriend. She was standing right there, smiling a little. She raised her eyebrow at the long look he sent her. "Sarah. Sarah and I. We have plans this weekend. Yeah. Gotta spend time with this girrrrl, ya know? Can't let her get away."

Sarah giggled at him and he thought that was nice of her, playing along as he sort of threw her under the bus a bit.

"Bro, come on! It's your alma mater!" Awesome said, waving the ticket in his face. "It'll be rad, dude. My team versus your team. A little friendly banter goin' on…"

Yeah, no. No, it wasn't his alma mater. He lost a bit of his warmth at that. Even if it wasn't really Awesome's fault. He was trying to do a nice thing for his girlfriend's brother, for his friend. And he appreciated it, but…

"Look, no offense… But I'd rather face-plant directly into the fountain next time than go back to that place."

Awesome just shrugged, not looking like he was going to argue with him. Chuck appreciated that as he got a supportive slap on the bicep from the captain. Awesome knew the situation well enough by now, so he wouldn't push. Maybe he thought it wasn't his place.

He wandered off with a, "Let's go, dudes!", his gaggle of erstwhile frat boys trailing after him, and Chuck realized that while Awesome probably thought it wasn't his place, his sister wouldn't be holding back.

She stepped in with _that look_ on her face, and he really was so tired.

Ellie started with a wince. At least she knew what she had to say wouldn't be well-received. But he wasn't sure if it made it even worse that she knew, or not. Like, she could just...not say it. She could just leave him alone.

"Listen, Chuck. I know you have a lot of bad feelings about your alma mater." She sent Sarah a bit of a tentative look, like maybe she shouldn't be starting this conversation with his still new girlfriend standing right there.

"It isn't my alma mater, El. Maybe if I had a diploma, it would be, but I dunno if you remember, I got kicked out before that could happen." He hadn't meant to be so sarcastic with her, but she knew he was extremely sensitive about the Stanford stuff. It had ruined his entire life. His entire life. All of his plans, everything he'd worked for since he was young enough to care about computers, gone in one damn moment, in one damn professor's office. Fucking Bryce Larkin.

"Uh, that isn't really how that works, Chuck. It's still your school."

"Look, Ellie...Ellie…" He swallowed thickly, feeling an embarrassed flush that Sarah was still standing right next to him. "They kicked me out for something I didn't do. Okay? So that's it. Me and Stanford? We're officially done. No football games. No visits. I don't even want to hear the fucking name 'Stanford'. I'm through with it all." Then he paused at the bummed look on his sister's face. "Sorry."

He finally turned and looked at Sarah. Her face was unreadable, and he actually found for once that he preferred that to anything else—pity, sympathy, curiosity. She flashed a small, closed-mouth smile at Ellie though as he wandered past both of them to go inside, and he felt her following after him. The handler keeping tabs on the asset.

Though that wasn't really all that fair. He was just in a mood now. They had parental lock on cable; he wished there was a way to block stuff in real life. He'd cut Stanford out of his life altogether, make it so that anytime someone was going to mention it to him, he heard a soft breeze instead.

Chuck knew Sarah was there when he walked into his room, going into the corner of his closet and pulling his last box of Stanford stuff out, looking down into it, the sweatshirts, notebooks, pictures...one picture in particular… She'd seen enough of him being a sadsack now, about various things, and she'd seen him have mental breakdowns… She'd seen him at his worst, and most vulnerable. So what did he care if she saw him feeling sorry for himself as he ambled over to his bed with the box and plopped it down carelessly?

She was leaning against his doorway silently, just watching. And as he plopped face-first onto his bed, his body limp, he heard Sarah wander over and sit on the other side of the box. "What is all this stuff?"

"The last box I didn't unpack. It's sat in there for five years, don't judge me."

"I'm not. I imagine it was kind of painful having to unpack this stuff."

"Worst thing ever."

"Can I look?" He shrugged, turning his face away from her, hearing her move stuff around in the box. "Rubix cube, huh? Can you do these things?"

"Yeah. S'easy."

"Impressive." He made a noncommittal sound in response. And then he felt her hand on his upper back. "Hey. You can talk to me. If you need to." She paused, then, when he didn't respond, and he heard she maybe felt like she was overstepping, or like maybe she wasn't supposed to be there for that talk Ellie had just given him. More than that, the way he'd snapped back at his sister. "It seemed like maybe you really just want to not think about it. And that's okay, too. But you got this stuff out, so I thought...Oh."

Chuck pushed himself up to look. She'd found the picture of Chuck, Bryce, and a few of their friends at Stanford. Taken before he was kicked out, before Bryce framed him. She was gazing down at it, her eyebrows raised. And he wondered what she was thinking. "Yeah, that was before he ruined my whole life."

She swallowed and nodded. And even though he really didn't want to talk about it, part of him felt like maybe he had to. He moved to sit up on the edge of his bed and gently reached over to take the picture from her, looking down at it.

"That was the most mortifying thing you could possibly imagine. I was living in a house with all my frat buddies, you know? And I had to pack everything up in my room, head out to the car. Ellie and Awesome dropped everything to come up and get me, sort of a support system type thing. I wouldn't let them come in to help me pack, though, it was way too embarrassing." He let out a huff and shook his head, widening his eyes. "I mean, I can't even describe the looks on all of their faces. They waited at the bottom of the stairs, all of them looking at me. I mean, they'd all sided with Bryce, ya know? They all thought I'd cheated. I'm sure they felt bad for me still, but some of the guys weren't even looking at me." He reached up and scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward being this open with her suddenly.

But she just listened quietly, watching him steadily, moving the baseball she'd taken out of the box in her hands slowly, methodically. Strange how that small thing was almost comforting to him.

Or maybe it was just her in general. Her presence.

"You wanna know what he said to me?" She didn't respond. "Bryce, I mean." He looked up at her as she nodded silently. "I asked him why he did that to me. You know, putting those tests in my room. Framing me. I asked him why. And he said I did it to myself." He whistled low, shaking his head. "Man, he was my best friend there. We were practically attached at the hip, the two of us. And to have him say that after what he did, both of us knowing he'd framed me on purpose, it felt like he'd grabbed a knife and jammed it into my chest. I'll never forget the look on his face. Like he was ashamed of me. Fucking asshole." He dropped the picture back into the box dismissively.

As Sarah put the baseball back into the box, he stood up and hefted it into his arms.

"Why would he do that?" Sarah asked. "It seems too...awful. To do that to anybody. But your friend especially."

"Because he was sleeping with my girlfriend. Simple as that."

Sarah just frowned, then gestured to the box. "What are you doing with that?"

"Putting it directly in the trash. Fuck these memories. Fuck Bryce. I'd say I'm done letting him dictate my life, but thanks to him, I've also got the Intersect in my brain, so he's still dictating my life." He walked past her towards his door. "What I _can_ do, though, is get rid of this shit."

Sarah followed him again. "Do you think this is something you might regret, though, Chuck? Tossing that part of your life away like that?"

He sent her an annoyed look and she winced.

"Sorry. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I suppose I'm just giving you some food for thought. It-It isn't as easy as throwing stuff in the garbage. They say 'out of sight, out of mind', but I don't think it's...that easy." She got a look on her face then as they stopped at the front door. He wanted to know what she was thinking about, but he knew better than to ask, or even surmise.

"Sarah, I can't even remember any of the good things from Stanford. If I tried, I couldn't remember. Those last days, Bryce fucking me over, stealing my girlfriend, my future...getting told I had to pack my things and leave the school, my home… That's overtaken all of the good stuff. None of this means anything to me anymore," he said, lifting the box a little.

She sent him a reassuring smile, nodded, and opened the door for him.

He led her out to the trashcan and she opened the lid for him so that he could drop the box straight into it. He wished there was a way he could cut himself off from that part of his life altogether, but Bryce had made sure he couldn't by sending him that email.

As Sarah let the lid shut, she made a soft sound of surprise. "Oh, hey. Your ID fell out."

Frowning in question, he glanced down at his feet. It must've fallen out of the box when he tossed it in. "Oh. Yeah. Don't need that anymore."

He leaned down to pick it up, straightening to his full height and turning it over in his fingers to glance at it one last time. He felt a tingle at the back of his head and it moved to between his eyes. Oh...oh, no.

Chuck flashed, seeing his transcript from the years he'd attended, his record… He didn't understand it. He didn't get any information from it. But he'd just flashed...on himself.

"Chuck, did you just flash?" Sarah asked, and he felt her put her hand on his shoulder, spinning him towards her.

"Y-Yeah. Yep. I flashed on myself. Sarah, why—why'd I—?"

Her features hardened, not towards him, as she grabbed the ID from him and looked at it. "I don't know, Chuck. But that means you're in the Intersect." She bit her lip. "So far Casey's been read into a lot more than I have with this whole operation," she said with no small amount of sardonicism, "so maybe he will know. Come on."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him across the courtyard to Casey's apartment.

}o{

"What d'ya mean you flashed? On _this_?" Casey held Chuck's Stanford ID up, then lowered it down to where he could look at it. "Do they require you to make a stupid face for these things?"

"Casey," Sarah interrupted, snatching the card from him. "Chuck flashed on himself. That seems like a big deal. And considering I don't know why, that leaves the NSA."

"Well, Agent Walker, not to beat a dead horse, but you haven't exactly been in the loop as far as what's going on over there in the lovely Central Intelligence Agency, have ya?"

She'd literally just hinted the same thing to Chuck, but still she glared, clenching her jaw at him. "Thank you, Casey."

"S'true," he said with a shrug, and she shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"How am I in the Intersect? We still haven't got an answer to that sort of giant massive astronomical question. Maybe we should, ooooh I dunno, figure that out?" Chuck asked, looking like he was maybe losing his cool a little bit.

"We'll figure it out." She crossed over to the computers and sent Casey a look. He got the hint and joined her. She made short work of searching the CIA database as Chuck scurried over to stand behind her, but Casey grabbed him by his shoulders and walked him back down to where he couldn't see the screens.

"Just in case," he snarked with a bit of a smirk, patting Chuck on the chest.

"Oh, come on. What am I gonna do? Tell everyone we're keeping aliens in a super secret base in the New Mexico desert?"

Casey widened his eyes. "You aren't s'posed ta know that...Did you see that in the Intersect?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and kept searching, going back before the date Bryce stole the Intersect. Chuck was nowhere in there. The name Bartowski wasn't, either. "Maybe we should talk to Graham and Beckman."

Casey shrugged. "You really think we should? Look, I don't need to do a search. I know for a fact the NSA has no record of you from before Bryce put you on our radar. I don't know about the CIA, Walker. And it seems like you don't, either."

She frowned deeply. "I just looked. He isn't in here until Bryce sent that email to him."

" _He_ is standing right here." Chuck pointed to himself.

"Sorry," she said with a wince. "Bad habit."

"None of this is reassuring, guys," Chuck said, starting to pace. "The Intersect is supposed to have information put into it by the CIA and by the NSA, a sort of cross-reference guide to put their gathered info together and paint a picture so that you can...I dunno, stop bad guys. If the NSA didn't put me in there, and the CIA didn't put me in there, who did?"

Sarah didn't have an answer and neither did Casey, it seemed. She turned to exchange a look with him.

"What's that? Stop doing that. Stop doing that secret agent look exchange. Just tell me. There's a reason why I was put in the CIA database in my Stanford days. That's what this means, right? I flashed on my Stanford ID. That wouldn't have been put into the Intersect after Bryce tagged me with the Intersect. So I was put into it before. Why?" Chuck asked.

"Same thought I had," she admitted. "What did you see in the flash? Anything important?"

"No. No, just my records, the stuff they kept on me while I was there. And my transcript, the grades I was getting in my classes. Usual stuff colleges keep on their students." He shrugged, stopping the pacing and turning to face them. "That's why I'm sure I was added then. None of it was...now stuff. No Buy More or anything."

Sarah turned the ID over in her hands, chewing on her cheek.

"Wait-Wait a minute. What about Professor Fleming? I was in his class, and he was CIA. Maybe there's some connection there. What if they added all of his students or something?"

Sarah sighed and glanced at Casey again, before turning back to Chuck. "Fleming might give us some answers if we could find a way to locate him."

And what Graham and Beckman didn't know wouldn't hurt them, she thought to herself. Casey's words were stuck in her mind. She didn't entirely trust anymore that the CIA database she'd gone into had everything. Chuck had the real database in his head. There were things in the Intersect nobody had access to. It worried her.

"That means you have to get over your little Stanford tantrum earlier and put on your big boy pants. Think you can do that?"

"I dunno, think you can take off your asshole pants for a few minutes and act like a person?" Chuck snarked. Then he narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together. "Pretend I didn't just ask you to take pants off."

Sarah bit her cheek, forcing herself to remember there was something serious going on here to keep from showing too much amusement. "You're going to help us find Fleming, then," she said…or maybe she was asking, more like.

"If I want answers, I guess I'm going to have to."

"Good. Come over here." He walked over and she grabbed his arm, pulling him in next to her. "It won't be easy," she said.

Casey piped up, seeming properly chastised almost. It was...surprising. He was getting right to business. "New intel suggests the professor's being hunted." Sarah glanced at him in question. "It just came in. You were outside watching the meathead fest. The NSA's interviewed one witness in Fleming's class, said a guy barged into the classroom. Fleming took one look at him, ended the class early, grabbed his briefcase, and ran out of there. She ID'd the guy—Magnus Einersson. He's an Icelandic spy."

Chuck frowned. "I'm sorry, _Iceland_ does espionage?"

"Magnus spies and sells intel to the highest bidder. Iceland isn't 'officially' aware of his activities." Casey added a scoff to that but Sarah was already leaning in and reading the file the NSA had on Einersson. Jesus Christ, this guy was insane.

"It says here that the crossbow is his weapon of choice," she said out loud.

"Oh. What. Slingshot's too ineffective?"

She sent Chuck a smirk. "What it means is this guy doesn't just follow orders. He enjoys the hunt. You send a spy out on a kidnap or kill order, they don't typically go into it using a weapon like this. He's a hunter. Fleming's being chased by a madman."

"What the hell?" Chuck stood up straight and turned to face her and Casey. "This is getting way too 'Most Dangerous Game' for me. Some guy who hunts people is chasing my old Stanford professor through the greater Los Angeles area and I have to go save him."

Sarah felt like there was something else he was going to say, but then he didn't, giving his head a little shake. Was there something else about Professor Fleming? Something he hadn't told them? She stored that away in her brain for later.

"Not just you." Casey grabbed a gun and slid a clip into it cockily. "You got us, too. Crossbow bastard hasn't got a chance."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Casey. We have no idea where Fleming is, or if he's even alive still."

"Well, are we even looking?" Chuck asked. "We aren't gonna find him if we aren't looking."

"We've got people on it," Sarah reassured him. "We can't do everything, just the three of us."

"Yeah, but it feels an awful lot like we're doing _nothing_. I need to know why College Chuck is in the Intersect," he said, tapping his head. "And if Fleming gets killed by this Crossbow Viking Zaroff wannabe, my chance of getting some answers dies with him." He winced. "Also, that means another human being will be dead. That's also bad. Ahem."

"What do you want us to do? Drive in circles through Los Angeles looking for him? Knocking on doors with his picture asking little old ladies if they've seen 'im? When Walker says we got people on it, it means we got people on it. Capiche?"

Chuck let his chin fall to his chest. "So...what, then?"

"We let our people do their jobs, and they'll tell us when they've found him." She squeezed his arm. "Until then, you go to work tomorrow. Casey and I will keep tabs on the search."

"I'm getting really tired of sitting at that stupid Nerd Herd desk and pretending like everything isn't the literal worst," he complained. And then he sighed and shrugged. "But okay. Fine. Yeah. I'll go to work tomorrow and...wait."

Sarah smiled reassuringly, silently hoping they weren't too late when it came to Professor Fleming. Because she was just as eager to find the answer to this puzzle as Chuck was. Maybe not...he had a lot at stake here. But she was pretty damn eager.

Because if the CIA knew about Chuck five years ago, there was a good reason for it. And whatever that reason was, it scared her. Because it meant there was a lot going on here that none of them knew about. And she had a bad feeling the director of the CIA did know. That it was another thing he was keeping from all of them. Perhaps even from Beckman.

What in the hell were the CIA up to?

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading. Please leave us reviews. We tend to like 'em.

-SC and DC


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** Thanks for still being here with us. Real life happened and we put posting this chapter off for a while. We're back, though. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck. We aren't making any money writing this fic.

* * *

Chuck was sitting at the Nerd Herd desk, thinking about his crazy day. First there would be no more staggered lunches, then there was Anna suggesting she knew a guy who could off Harry. Then…then there was Harry. It was bad enough he was the Ass Man, but touching Morgan in the stomach like that and saying he was soft like pudding was just...disturbing.

Casey walked up and hit the bell right in front of Chuck. "You didn't offer to kill Harry for Anna, did you?" Chuck asked Casey.

"No," Casey replied. "Why, you want me to kill him?" Chuck swore it sounded like glee in his voice.

"No. No, just curious," Chuck replied. "Beckman suggested the NSA couldn't kill people...willy nilly."

"Huh," Casey grunted. "I mean I'd have to set it up, make it...look a certain way." Chuck's eyes widened. Casey grinned. "Calm down, Nancy. I was just kidding."

"I know you meant that to hurt me, but it didn't," Chuck replied. "Seriously, you could kill Harry?"

"Chuck, I could kill anyone if I was given the order," Casey replied. Chuck stared at him. "Bunker, Numbnuts. I'd put you in a bunker. Don't worry, I'd send you pictures of Walker all the time."

"And just why would you do that?" Chuck replied, crossing his arms.

"Oh, I don't know, you weren't gonna be a part of this, yet here you are, a part of this." Casey gave him a look that said he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Sarah's a friend, and she doesn't want one of her people left out in the wind, plus it will tell me why I'm in the Intersect."

"Yeah, you actually believe that?"

"Casey, let's say I did have...something for Agent Walker, wouldn't they split us up?" Casey grunted. "So, what good would it do if I did?"

"I still believe Ronald Reagan is President, don't make it true." Casey gave him a look and shook his head. "Shit, you've turned me into Dear Abby."

Chuck shook his head. "I'm pretty sure she never would have had a discussion on killing someone," Chuck pointed out.

Casey thought about it and shrugged. He dropped a photo on the desk. "We just got a hit off a traffic camera in Hollywood."

"Hey, that's Fleming."

"Wow, thanks there, Chuck. You saved me a lot investigative work. The Intersect hard at work, huh? The DMV told me that."

"Wow. Sarcasm, what a surprise," Chuck replied. "I don't think Dear Abby would have used sarcasm."

Casey stared at him. "Annie wrote to Abby, Dear Abby, I know boys will be boys, but my 'boy' is seventy-three and he's still chasing women. Any suggestions? Abby replied, Dear Annie: Don't worry. My dog has been chasing cars for years, but if he ever caught one, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

Chuck just stared at Casey. "You never cease to amaze me."

Casey grunted. Chuck wasn't really sure what that grunt was. Maybe it was new. "We located the car Fleming's driving, local address. We're bringing him in ASAP."

"What do you need me for? Need someone to insult while you wait? Oooo I know, you want a mix tape to listen to. Wait, did Sarah ask me to make one?"

Casey stared at him again. "She doesn't really like Michael Bolton."

"Or does she?" Chuck asked, eyebrows raised.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Yours is a friendly face. Professor sees you, he'll be more inclined to cooperate, copy?"

"Yeah, except that I wasn't the professor's star pupil," Chuck replied.

Casey turned and walked off, holding up three fingers. "We leave in three."

Chuck looked down at the photo and thought back. _As you're aware, you scored perfectly on your midterm exam._ ** _Yeah, yeah. Well, I was up all night studying. It was a monster. No offense._** _You even aced the last section. Encoded images._ ** _Yeah, those were just kind of a shot in the dark._** _You may be aware, I keep an answer key to every exam locked inside this office._ ** _No, no, I wasn't aware of that._** _Really? Then how do you explain the midterm answer key... being found in your fraternity room?_ ** _I'm sorry. You searched my room?_** _We received the tip from a student this morning._ ** _What? You got a tip about my room?_** _I need to know how you broke into this office and stole the answers, Chuck._ ** _I didn't steal anything. I don't have to, I'm acing your class._** _Exactly. The student also claimed that you're selling copies._ ** _What?_** _I know you're a scholarship student and Stanford is a very expensive school._ ** _Look, whoever gave you your tip was lying._** _Our source was Bryce Larkin. Your roommate._

He looked up and saw Casey motioning him to come on. Chuck steeled himself. This was gonna suck.

}o{

Chuck was driving while Casey had his headphones in his ears. He claimed it was so he didn't get asked anymore advice. Sarah gave both of them a look, started to say something a couple of times, and then thought better of it.

"You okay?" Sarah asked softly.

Chuck looked over at her. "Yeaaah," he replied, and noticed her slightly roll her eyes. They were very close to talking about things, and while Sarah would, Chuck knew it didn't always make her comfortable, and with Casey in the car….he grinned, and then sobered his features. "No, no, Sarah I'm not." He saw her stiffen beside him. "Sarah, I've learned the most awful news today."

"What is it, Chuck?" her voice was catching, she was so uncomfortable it radiated off of her.

She was gonna kill him later, but it was soooooooo gonna be worth it. "I've heard, from a very reliable source...you know what, never mind."

"No, tell me," she insisted.

"You don't like Michael Bolton, Sarah. How could you?" She turned to him trying to work her jaw but finding she couldn't. Chuck was nearly crying he was laughing so hard. "I'm gonna die for that, I know."

She shook her head, trying to keep a grin off of her face. "Not cool, Bartowski," she muttered.

"Sarah...thank you," he said softly. She gave a small head nod. They both knew that was all either of them were comfortable saying. Chuck pulled up to the address as Casey pulled out his headphones and pulled out the binoculars.

"We'll extract the professor as quickly as possible," Sarah said. She turned to Chuck. "You'll keep watch?"

"If I flash on any bad guys, I'll call," Chuck said feeling like mom and dad were giving him the same lecture over and over.

She turned to him. "Everything looks quiet, but—"

"I know, I know, stay in the car," Chuck said, cutting her off. He caught the eye roll. He grinned at her. "I'll stay in the car."

"Pffft," Casey said from the backseat. Chuck gave him a look.

"Boys," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Okay, good. Let's go."

He watched Casey and Sarah cross the street, thinking about how they looked like they looked kinda weird, both in black...well, more Casey than Sarah. Sarah had a black leather jacket, and she looked pretty bad ass. That's when Chuck noticed Professor Fleming walking down the sidewalk.

"I should stay in the car," he muttered to himself as he opened the door. "Professor Fleming. Hey." Fleming began to run, and Chuck ran after him. "No, no, no, wait, professor, it's me, Chuck. Professor, stop. We're here to extract you, Glass Castle." Fleming stopped and turned toward him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. But it's—It's Chuck. I was in your Psychology and Symbolism class at Stanford. I don't know if you remember me."

Fleming took off his hat. "Chuck Bartowski. Of course I remember you."

"Ha, ha," Chuck replied nervously. "I guess it's not every day you kick a guy out of school, huh? At least, I hope not."

Fleming took his glasses off, and walked around Chuck where his back was to the street. "So you're, uh, with the Agency now. Why didn't you say so?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to, really," Chuck replied.

"Well, we have code phrases. Didn't they train you?" Fleming asked.

"I mostly just stay in the car," Chuck replied, thinking he really didn't. Why didn't Casey and Sarah give him those phrases? Of course he couldn't stay in the car, sooooo...

"Next time, if it's a dangerous situation, say, 'Are you coming to the toga party?'" Fleming explained.

"A real code phrase. I like it," Chuck replied. "That's awesome."

"What are we doing? Who's bringing me in?"

"Oh, right. Yeah," Chuck replied. He thought for a second. "So Sarah and Casey will do that. But, um, I was wondering if I could ask you something first. Why did the CIA have a file on me at Stanford?"

Fleming looked away. His eyes got a bit bleary. "I'm sorry." His mouth opened wide, and he stumbled toward Chuck, arms open.

"Oh, hey. Hey. Hey, hey, buddy. Let's not beat ourselves up. You know, the past is the past. Okay. Look, we didn't really know each other that well at college. And this is a little awkward, so…" Chuck was patting his back and felt his fingers brush against something… He looked and saw that a crossbow bolt was sticking out of Fleming's back. "What the—? Oh, boy. Hey, hey, hang in there. Hang in there." They fell backwards as Fleming's weight shifted.

"Give this to Bryce Larkin," Fleming said, showing Chuck a piece of paper with the numbers 219 on top and F5U922 on the bottom.

"Bryce? Bryce Larkin? What—? What did Bryce have to do with this?" As Chuck turned his head toward Fleming, who had his eyes closed, a crossbow bolt ripped the paper out of his hand. Chuck stared at it, and tried not to scream. He tried really hard. He saw the man Casey had shown him earlier. He was putting another bolt in the cross bow. He bent down and retrieved the bolt and the note. "I'm nobody, I swear." He walked past Chuck.

"Casey, come on. Over here." Chuck heard Sarah's voice. He had always thought it had sounded wonderful, but now...now it was like angels singing.

Chuck began to freak out and started yelling. He started shaking Fleming trying to wake him. "Over here. Man down, man down! Help me! Help." He saw Casey and Sarah approaching him, guns drawn and he saw the look on her face, but right now, he didn't care. "Hey, hey, come on. Come on!" Fleming had no response.

}o{

Sarah looked over at Casey who was pacing the hospital floor. She gave him a head motion to come sit beside her. He sat down, but looked extremely fidgety. "Casey, you needing to shoot someone?" she asked softly.

"Walker, this thing smells to high heaven." Sarah had been thinking that but she was glad her partner voiced it. "Fleming kicked Chuck out of Stanford, and now he's shot with a crossbow?"

"I wish I knew more," Sarah replied, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.

Casey gave her a look, and it was obvious she didn't. "And there's that," Casey said. "Walker if you're messing with me, I swear…" he trailed off. "Graham constantly leaving you in the dark...what the hell is in that Intersect he doesn't want you to know about?"

Sarah looked at him, her eyes widening. "That's the only thing that makes sense, isn't it?" She started to say more when the doctor walked up to them. She knew from the body language before a word was even said.

}o{

Chuck sat in his room with no lights on. He didn't know what to feel. He knew he felt guilty. He wanted Fleming to live, obviously, but he really wanted to know what Fleming knew about him, and that made him feel guilty. If he had that information… He had already tried to hack Fleming's computer, but nothing was on it about him. Why was he kicked out, how did Fleming know Bryce, what the hell was going on? A whistling sound at his window alerted him. He looked up and saw Casey and Sarah peeking through the blinds. He got up, went over, and pulled the cord that lifted them up.

He saw the upset look on Sarah's face and he knew what was coming. He was glad she wasn't beating around the bush at least. "I'm sorry, Chuck, but we have to talk."

Chuck nodded and stepped back, giving them room to enter. He noticed Casey pull something from his pocket and click it. "Casey, what is that?"

"Killed the bugs for a bit," Casey replied. Chuck gave him a look. "Walker and I aren't sure what's going on, but none of it makes sense." Casey looked at Sarah.

Chuck looked from one to the other. "Okay. So how was the hospital? Is the professor gonna be okay?" Sarah looked down and Casey glanced away. "No...Oh jeez." Chuck turned away, walked over to his chair, and slumped down into it.

Sarah sat on the bed across from him, Casey in a chair by the window. "Chuck it's not your fault," she said to him. He shook his head, not really believing her.

"Problem is we can't talk to him, sort this mess out," Casey began. Chuck turned towards him, giving Casey a, "Are you kidding me?" look. "For us, for him…" he didn't finish that statement and Chuck was so glad. "You sure it was Magnus you saw?"

"Gee, I don't know, Casey. How many psycho archers do you know?" Casey grunted, more of a laughing grunt. Chuck paused. "You know more than one don't you?" Casey shrugged. Chuck shook his head and continued on. "I asked Fleming about why I was in the Intersect. I should've brought him to you, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault, Chuck," Sarah told him. He never looked at her. She glanced at Casey, who nodded. She reached over and took Chuck's wrist. He looked at her. "It's. Not. Your. Fault. You didn't shoot him with a crossbow."

"If you tried you probably would have shot yourself," Casey quipped.

Chuck gave him a dirty look. He turned back to Sarah. "I keep thinking about what he said. Why would he want me to bring those numbers to Bryce?"

"Bryce must have been one of his CIA contacts," Sarah explained. "Fleming was probably never told of his death." She got a sullen look on her face. "Seems to be standard CIA policy about not being told things pertinent to the job," she grumbled.

"List off the numbers you remember," Casey said quickly.

Chuck was pretty sure Casey, like himself, wanted to change the subject before Sarah got beyond grumbling. "There were like ten of them. A couple of nines. Five, started with a two."

"Seriously, Bartowski? That's it? You have a computer for a brain—?"

"Casey, it was a very stressful situation, okay? I watched a guy get skewered by a crossbow." Chuck took a deep breath. "And now he's dead," Chuck added softly. Casey looked uncomfortable. "Look, Fleming knew something," Chuck went on. "Before he fell, he said, 'I'm sorry.' Why would he say that?"

"I don't know, Chuck," Sarah admitted, frustration covering her face. "I seem to be saying that a lot lately, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied. "There is something going on here with this," he said, tapping his head. "I think he might know why I'm in the Intersect." No one knew what to say. "Listen, I need to shower, and change. If I think of anything…"

"Sure," Casey said, quickly bolting, but not before turning the bugs back on.

"Chuck..."

"Yeah?"

"It's not your fault." Chuck nodded and she did the same. She turned and left, and he shut the window and locked it. He heard Ellie come home while he was in the shower, so when he got out he dressed and headed to her room. Ellie always had a way of making him feel better, and right now, he felt especially shitty.

He walked into Ellie's room and saw she was folding laundry.

"You okay?" she asked. "It's not too late for you to change your mind about revisiting the old alma mater." Chuck fell face first onto her bed. "Spending time with me and Devon."

"Oh, please," said, pushing himself up. "You just don't wanna be stuck in a car alone with Awesome's frat buddies."

"Maybe," she conceded. "Or maybe I'm your sister and I care about you... and I think that going back to Stanford would help you to move on." Or she had conceded nothing.

"I love you, sis," he said, pushing up and looking up at her. "And I'd take a lot of bullets for you... but five hours in a car with Awesome and his brahs, that is asking too much. Besides, if I came, you wouldn't have room for your fun old foam finger." He smacked her with it a few times.

"Stop it," she said, laughing sitting down beside him. "Okay, what if you took Sarah? In… Never mind."

"Yes, why don't I ask my girlfriend to take me to the college I was kicked out of? Oh, and in her Porsche since I don't have my own car?"

"I bet she would."

"Oh, I'm sure, but maybe I don't want to ask her to do that."

"I could call her," Ellie offered. Chuck's eyes widened. "Or not. But Chuck..." She paused. "Chuck, remember the other day when we talked about how she's not a goddess and you need to show her your flaws?" Chuck nodded. "You're not giving Sarah enough credit."

Chuck groaned internally. She was right, of course, she was Ellie. She was always right. Well, not always, but more times than not. If he and Sarah were dating… He wasn't going there. He was still broken from that braid on Halloween.

"Chuck, she knows who you are," Ellie insisted. "She likes you for you, little brother." Chuck rolled his eyes. "You saved her the other day." Chuck was glad that's all she said and didn't mention the Ass Man debacle. "God, and she's so much better than that psycho bitch from hell."

"How do you really feel about 'you-know-who', Ellie?" She gave him a flat look. He whacked her in the head again with the foam finger. She tried to take it away from him but he pulled it out of her reach. "What is this?" he asked, looking at it, and wondering how it had survived the years.

"I don't know, but look at what I found." She pulled a book out. "See this? It was in my old college stuff."

She handed him the book and he looked at it. "'The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.'"

"You want me to return it to the Stanford Library for you?" Ellie offered. "Or you and Sarah could return it..."

He gave her a flat look and she laughed. "No. No, I'd kind of like to finish it. See how it ends."

She gave him what he called the EllieMom look. "Chuck, that book is like four years overdue."

He gave her a smarmy look. "What do you think Stanford's gonna do, huh? Expel me?" She rolled her eyes as he got up off her bed and headed toward his room. He glanced at the spine, and saw the dewey decimal numbers. He thought back to those days in the library where Bryce hid his extra ammunition for his dart gun.

He raced into his room and grabbed his phone. He thought about seeing Casey, but this was a Bryce thing, a CIA thing. He texted Sarah. **Random question, did Bryce ever tell you about a spot in the Stanford library?**

 _That's cute. You think he told me about Stanford. He didn't even tell me about Connecticut..._

 **If I gave you directions in the Stanford Library do you think you could find a hidden spot?**

There was no answer for a moment. _Why don't you come over here? Maybe draw me a map?_ He didn't really want to because he was afraid he would end up going with them to Stanford. If he could just give her and Casey the info he wouldn't have to go. _Trust me_.

Chuck stared at his screen. **That was just low.**

 _Wink._

 **What was that?**

 _A winky face._

 **No, ;) is a winky face.**

 _Chuck, you shouldn't make fun of your girlfriend who doesn't know how to make winky faces._

 **I'm sorry.**

 _;)_

}o{

Chuck knocked on the door and a grinning Sarah Walker opened it. She gave him a head nod to come in.

He walked in and began, wanting to get through this before he found himself back at the school he was kicked out of, with his fake girlfriend, in her Porsche. "I know what the numbers mean. They're for a book in Stanford Library. Bryce had a place where he would stash stuff. He told Fleming about it. Fleming must have left the intel there for Bryce."

Sarah didn't say anything for a second. She just stood there. Chuck was watching her and it seemed like she was waiting on him to come to a conclusion. "It's a matter of time before Magnus figures it out and beats us to the book." Chuck nodded. "Unless we can beat him to it."

Chuck turned, found a pencil and piece of paper. "Bryce kept his stuff on the third floor." He began drawing. "There was a turn…" He turned his body, trying to remember. "There was a turn…" His voice was soft. She came over and stood right beside him. "Sarah—"

"Chuck, I'm not going to make you go."

Chuck stared at the drawing and dropped his pencil. "Fleming died. Fleming died and what he knew died with him." He looked over at her. "You don't want me to go. Ellie will want us to ride together in your car."

"That's not a problem," Sarah replied, grinning.

"I told her I might be a little embarrassed riding with my girlfriend to the school I got kicked out of...in her amazing car," he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

Sarah nodded, walked over to her bed, sat down, and studied him. "Chuck, any woman who cared one bit about you and was ashamed of what you just described doesn't deserve you." She crossed her arms, and Chuck thought she looked a little uncomfortable.

He smiled at her, and knew what he had to do to set her at ease. "You know I'd have to make a mixtape."

She rolled her eyes, and uncrossed her arms, a grin spreading across her face. "Of course you would."

"Don't worry, Michael Bolton and Kelly Clarkson will be heavily featured," he assured her. " _Baby, I-I want to be—"_

"Fine, you have to tell Casey," she said cutting him off, smiling shyly at him.

He shook his head and sighed. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I have to go back to Stanford."

}o{

Chuck pulled the CD out and watched as Sarah good-naturedly rolled her eyes. He had labeled it "Chuck and Sarah's First Road-trip" and he saw Sarah's eyebrow raise.

"Uh, I-I did that thinking of the cover," he said, trying his best to sound natural, but was freaking out because he realized exactly what it looked like. "Ellie would be weird about it if I didn't." He saw Sarah nod. "She's already lecturing me, you know." He was looking straight ahead, not wanting to see her reaction. This was important, it was for the cover, and that was it. "She thinks I'm holding back."

"And you are," Sarah replied. "I get it. I'm trained in this, you're not. We'll figure something out." She paused. "What did you say to her to, uh…?"

"Yeah, if you're gonna say appease, or satisfy, this is Ellie we're talking about," Chuck replied, getting a laugh out of Sarah. "I told her you had been hurt, and I didn't want to pressure you on anything."

"Smart," Sarah replied.

Chuck took a deep breath. She had the right to know. "You know, she's really thankful for you, she says I'm acting like I did before I, and I quote, 'met that psycho bitch from hell.'" Sarah sputtered with laughter. "I'm getting the feeling she didn't like Jill."

"I never knew her and I don't like her," Sarah replied. Chuck had no idea what to do with that. "What she did was selfish, Chuck. When you care about a person, you don't do stuff like that to them."

Chuck turned towards her. "Kinda sounds like…" he trailed off seeing her face. "You know what, today's going to be 'fun' enough without both of us dredging up old relationships and how the world did us dirty."

"I'm here, Chuck," she said softly.

"I know, thank you," he replied. "And if you ever want to talk about anything, even in the most general of terms, I am as well." She nodded. "So, I have the perfect song to start us out." He pushed the CD in dramatically, and Willie Nelson came on over the speakers. "Huh? Huh? Amiright? Huh?"

"On the Road Again?" Sarah asked, laughing.

Chuck pursed his lips. "Not a fan?" She gave him a glance. "Okay, okay, I am prepared. Be ready to be wowed, Sarah Walker." He pushed the button, and she started to giggle. She looked out the window so he couldn't see. "Nailed it, didn't I?"

"No," she replied. "While I do enjoy, Here I Go Again, can I point out, it's about doing something alone, and we are a team."

"Team Moron," Chuck replied, grinning.

"I mean me and you, Chuck," Sarah said, looking at him. "You know, the cover." Chuck nodded. "Try again."

"You're a hard one to please, Miss Walker, but you're worth it." Chuck internally grimaced with that one, and he thought he saw her squirm a little in her seat, but he wasn't about to mention it. Chuck hit the button with a dramatic flair. For a moment she could barely hear anything. Chuck reached down into his bag, pulled out his sunglasses, and put them on. Sarah looked over at him, and he was grinning. He was trying to control the grin and looked serious.

"Chuck—"

"Ah," he said, raising his hand, still _trying_ to look serious. "Feel it, Sarah, just feel it." She shook her head as Phil Collins voice came through the speakers. "In the Air Tonight is just so powerful, but you never truly experience it until…"

He had trailed off, hoping she would ask. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her struggling not to laugh at how dramatic he had sounded. "I'm gonna regret this," she mumbled under her breath. "Until what Chuck?"

He turned to her, giving her a look she had no problem seeing through the glasses. "You know," he said ominously. She laughed as Chuck waited for it. Suddenly he held one hand up in the air, her eyebrow lifting, and then just as the drum solo started, he rocked out on the air drums. Sarah burst out laughing. He sang along, and watched as Sarah shook her head, grinning. "Take it, Sarah," he said, finishing one of the lyrics. She just looked at him. "I know you've been spying for a while but when someone says take it, you take it."

"I don't sing, Chuck."

"Like, you don't know the words?"

"No, Chuck, I don't sing," she replied.

"Liar," Chuck replied and he hit the button several times. He sat back as Kelly Clarkson, Since You've Been Gone came over the speakers. "I know you know this one, and sing it in the shower."

"I do not," Sarah replied, not looking at him.

"Sarah—"

"Chuck, I don't sing!" she said a bit harshly.

Chuck swallowed. He had done what he swore he wouldn't. He had pushed too hard. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I—"

"I never did this as a kid," she said softly. Chuck clamped his mouth shut. "So I don't know how I sound, if I'm good, or terrible, or what."

"Thank you," Chuck said softly. She looked over at him. He cleared his throat. "For sharing that." She nodded. "You know when you're with people you trust, it's not about how you sound, but how you feel, how it just moves through you, right?" She raised an eyebrow. "Take for instance, Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody...When it comes on, it doesn't matter where you are, or what you're doing, you just move with it."

"If only you had it on that CD so you could show me," she mumbled. Chuck grinned. "Seriously, what's not on there?"

"Don't worry, Michael Bolton is as well," he replied. She began to laugh. He hit the button until he found what he was looking for. As Whitney began to sing, he danced badly, on purpose in his seat. "See, I trust you, and I'm just being free."

"Lucky me," she deadpanned.

"And you said you weren't funny!"

"I'm beginning to think you're really a cannibal," she replied. Chuck's mouth dropped open. And that's when she shocked him. No, shocked wasn't the word. Knocked him on his ass, that was the way to describe it. "Yeahhh I wanna dance with somebody," she sang. "With somebody who loves me."

Chuck smiled at her, and did the only thing he could….he joined in.

}o{

Thankfully, Chuck's road-trip mix only had fifteen songs on it, and because he insisted he didn't want to kill the songs for them, he took it out of the player instead of starting it over again, plugging his iPod in and turning on something he called "indie rock".

It was nice, pretty, soft...Good background music.

And after they stopped to eat lunch, the carbs in the two burgers he'd eaten, along with the entire order of fries, had knocked him out cold. She kept the music on, turning it down just a little so that Chuck could sleep peacefully, and her mind went after her with a fury.

She was a little over halfway there now, and she knew when Chuck woke up, he'd start showing signs of nerves. She didn't blame him, considering what had happened to him there. She wondered if it was the place in general that had him so reluctant to go there, or if he had a fear he'd see people he'd known, that they'd remember him being expelled, they'd remember why, and...God, that'd suck so bad for him.

Poor guy…

She'd sent Ellie a text letting her know they were on their way when they first climbed into her Porsche to start the drive. And she'd gotten a text back in all caps that said, "HAVE I TOLD YOU LATELY THAT YOU ARE THE BEST?" along with a "See you soon" and a happy face.

Sarah couldn't help being a little frustrated that Ellie continued to credit her with things when she didn't deserve it. But she couldn't really correct Chuck's sister on it, could she? Ellie hadn't been able to persuade Chuck to join them for the game, but he was going now. And Ellie really had no choice but to assume he'd talked to his girlfriend about it and she'd not only persuaded him to go, but she was driving him up herself.

She didn't know the truth. That Chuck's old professor was with the CIA, was just shot and killed by an Icelandic spy, and they needed to go to Stanford to figure out what said professor was trying to give his other ex-student, Bryce Larkin, who Ellie had no idea was a CIA agent…

So Sarah had to let Ellie think the best of her. She had to let Ellie think Sarah had been really good for her brother. And in reality, Sarah was part of what was putting his life in serious danger. Granted, it was her job to make sure nothing ever happened to him.

What was most frustrating to the agent was that she enjoyed the way Ellie showered her with praise, with shared looks, grins, hugs. She liked how much Ellie appreciated her being in Chuck's life. It was silly. She didn't like that part of her relied on it. Or maybe she didn't rely on it, per se, but sometimes she found herself almost aching for the other woman's approval.

Maybe it was just that Ellie was such a good person. Maybe she just liked Chuck's sister a lot. Maybe she liked all of these people. And she guessed she wanted them to like her, too. In her line of business, it was increasingly rare for her to find people she wanted to like her. People whose opinions she cared about, especially when it pertained to her.

The deeper Sarah'd gotten into the CIA, the harder the missions, the more critical and top secret the jobs Graham sent her out on, the more she disappeared… the worse the people she met, worked with, kidnapped, killed. To be pulled out of that and thrust into the lives of people like Chuck and Ellie...it was like whiplash.

That didn't matter right now, though.

Because they were now about to thrust Chuck into a situation he hadn't asked to be in. The guy had been trying to run away from Stanford for five years thanks to what Bryce did to him, and they were forcing him right back into it. He'd mentioned around his first burger that it was like Stanford had a chain around his neck or something, and that no matter how far away he thought he got from it, it was yanking him back again. Like, "Haaa! You thought! Guess again!" That had been what Chuck said, word for bitter word.

At least she was here. And while she wasn't sure of the extent to which her being here with him would help, she was aware enough to know she had an effect on him. Ellie had mentioned it in a text from the car once she and Devon had left on the drive. She knew it was sort of a way to get her to try to persuade Chuck, a subtle hint that maybe he'd do better if Sarah was there with him. "You really have a calming effect on him, Sarah." And that damn smiley face she'd added to it.

She hadn't told Chuck. Anyway, he didn't need to know about the texts she and Ellie exchanged here and there. Sarah still wasn't fully comfortable with it. Ellie used texts in a similar way to Chuck, with emojis and expressions, caps and quotes… It was well above Sarah's level of texting, but she was still trying.

And if they could manage to sneak away from the pre-gaming or tailgating, or whatever it was they were going to do before the football game started, they had real work they had to do. So she should maybe focus on that.

It was hard, though. Because she had a really bad feeling that there was a lot more to this than any of them knew. That Fleming and Bryce—both of them dead now—had been in cahoots on something that involved Chuck. And she was afraid that whatever it was would be clearer when they found whatever Fleming hid in the library for Bryce.

She was afraid that Chuck was the center of this whole thing, even before Bryce had sent him that email. And if that was the case, all of this would get that much harder for all three of them. There was a real chance Bryce might have picked Chuck out for the Intersect on purpose. And if he had, there was a reason—that reason had to do with Chuck. Something about Chuck connected all of this.

Sarah didn't doubt the Nerd Herd supervisor. He was even more in the dark than she and Casey were. And she believed completely that he wasn't keeping something from her, something about Bryce and Fleming.

But she didn't trust her superiors. And she didn't trust Bryce.

Sarah was afraid Chuck was in a lot more trouble than they'd suspected, that he was a lot more involved in the Intersect than they'd suspected. And that did not bode well for how they proceeded if they found out that was the case.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks again for reading. More soon!

-SC and DC


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** We feel like this is the time we need reemphasize: canon- ** _ish_**.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck. We aren't making any money from this fic.

* * *

Chuck was holding onto the dashboard, his knuckles white as they pulled into the parking space. This was insane. With about twenty miles to go, Chuck told Sarah it was a shame she couldn't outrace the Awesomemobile. One evil grin on her face later, and Chuck thanking God and anyone else who was listening he didn't throw up anything he had eaten over the past twenty years, they practically slid into a parking space. Chuck opened the door and began to kiss the ground.

"Now you're just being dramatic," Sarah said, laughing at him.

"I'm walking everywhere the rest of my life," Chuck said, his face plastered against the concrete. A car horn blew at him and he jumped back up, nearly knocking Sarah over as she had begun to help him up before he had been scared by the horn. "Whoa! Sorry, Sarah." He looked around, trying to keep his emotions in check. He felt her hands around his bicep. He noticed she did that at times. Maybe it was her way of recognizing when he needed support and giving him what she thought he needed. It was on brand Sarah kindness and he liked it.

"You okay?" she asked.

He looked at her. "Truth?" She nodded. "This is really freaking me out. It's like nothing has changed. Five years and it's...the same."

She gave him a look. "Is that good or bad?"

"It's, uh... It's, you know—Yeah, it's—Yeah." He sighed. "That made no sense, did it?"

"Absolutely none, and yet, it did? It's like I'm learning to decode nerd or something." He gave her a flat look and she giggled. "Seriously, is this something that talking out would help?"

He cocked his head to the side and grinned at her. "Bet you never thought when you signed up for your job that nerd-babysitting would be at the top of your daily to do list."

"You're right, but I can't say I'm not enjoying it," she said, grinning.

"You must be into some weird stuff," he replied, not thinking. He reddened and noticed she was trying and failing to hold back a laugh as she shook her head.

She leaned toward him. "Well, your family thinks I'm into _you_ , does that count?"

He made a sarcastic "haha" face at her, and grinned when she laughed again.

"You know what I hate?" She looked at him, her face sobering. "It's like everywhere I look, oh, that's where Bryce and I did this, or that's where Jill and I did that. Everywhere here is depressing in its own special way, and I'd been having such a good time here until the end. I hate that Stanford is this negative for me now, but it is. It just hurts."

She squeezed his bicep. "Hey, think we can make it through this, and then when we get back, you and I...well, you talk and I listen?"

He gave her an appreciative smile. "You don't have to do that, but thank you."

She slid her hand up to his shoulder, turning him to her. "Actually I do, that's what friends do, right?"

Chuck looked around to make sure no one was close. "Sarah, I'm over here basically bitching about your ex-boyfriend, and that's not exactly fair to you."

She studied him a minute. Chuck watched her eyes, stormy, but not...not with him...if that made any sense. She looked at the ground. "I'm not sure boyfriend was...the correct term."

Chuck looked away, a little uncomfortable. When he looked back, she locked eyes with him. "If it was, it wasn't a two way street." Chuck was silent. "I was trying. In that life…." She trailed off, and he nodded. "It's hard to be in any kind of...real relationship. There are aliases, and sometimes, um, trust issues. And it gets all...tangled up in this web of lies, and you never know what's true and what isn't. There's also...I mean, either of us could've died at any…" Her voice trailed off and he got the meaning. Bryce _had_ died. It was a dangerous life. Something he didn't want to be a part of. It was already dangerous enough being an asset. "And anyway, things weren't like that. There was a disconnect and neither of us cared enough to...change that. He liked being a spy more than he wanted to have something real with me. Which was...okay, I guess."

"Do you think him being a spy had something to do with him getting me kicked out?" Chuck watched Sarah as she considered.

After a few seconds, she looked him in the eye, lifting her chin. "My spy senses—and I swear to god if you make a Spider-Man joke I'll kick you in the shin—" Chuck made a zipping motion. "—tell me something is going on, and it doesn't make sense. So the best I can give you is a maybe, but if you absolutely forced me to guess, I'd say yes."

"You think he loves being a spy so much he sacrificed his relationships with both of us?" Sarah nodded and Chuck scoffed. "He wasn't like that when I met him."

"Charming, easy-going, seemingly kind?" Sarah asked.

"You forgot easy on the eyes," Chuck added, making Sarah laugh. He smiled at her, then sobered significantly. "I never saw this betrayal coming."

"You think I did?" Sarah asked, making Chuck laugh. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Chuck, they screwed you over; don't let it change who you are." She bit her lip in hesitation, then squinted up at him in the sunlight. "There's bitterness in you when you talk about Bryce and Jill, and I get it, but don't let them have this control over your life. You're too good for that, Chuck. You deserve better."

"You do, too, Sarah," Chuck said. "You do, too." There was a second of tension and then she took a deep breath, and nodded. Chuck felt like they had formed a bond, another one, and when the day came that Sarah had to leave, he wondered what he'd do. If Jill had nearly broken him, what was he going to do when this wonderful woman left—when she _had_ to leave. They turned and began to walk in silence, not an awkward silence but one that was comfortable, that both recognized what had happened to the other.

They made their way into the quad where everyone was tailgating when Awesome ran up, shirtless, tossed Chuck a football, and grabbed Ellie. "Woo! Go Bruins, huh?"

"Devon, put me down. Put me down." Ellie was yelling, but she was smiling, Sarah was smiling, and Chuck realized he was starting to. The talk with Sarah had...helped.

Devon finally put Ellie down and rushed off to do other pre-game football stuff, most likely. "Uh, you wanna meet us at the stadium? I think we're gonna hang out here until the game starts." Ellie was waving at people she knew.

Chuck knew this was a chance for the two of them to find Bryce's hiding place. "Yeah. I'm gonna take Sarah for the Chuck Bartowski memorial tour." Sarah smiled and looked away. "So call me if any rabid Stanford fans decide to put Awesome in the hospital."

Ellie looked so pleased with that. "Ah. See you," she said, and took off.

Chuck and Sarah made their way through the quad and saw Casey, dressed in mostly black, storming up to them.

"Do you wanna go with politics or someone asked him to save the planet that has him in such a lovely mood?" Chuck asked.

"I don't know but I'll bet you a Wii rematch there was a growl and a 'hippie' involved," Sarah replied.

"I'm not much of a spy, but even I know that," Chuck retorted making Sarah laugh. He looked at Casey. "Nice job blending in with the crowd. Who you rooting for, death?"

"Enh," Casey growled. "Leave the quips to me." Casey started looking around.

"The library's this way, across the quad," Chuck said, taking off. He glanced around, taking it all in and just stopped walking.

Sarah must've noticed he wasn't with them and stopped, walking back to him. "What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know, I figured this'd be tough, but this place... is just a lot to take in, you know? I used to have so much fun here, and then…"

She tilted her head to the side. "And then?"

His voice nearly broke. "It was the worst day of my life, getting kicked out of here. Having to hear Ellie's voice when I told her I was coming home. Packing up all my stuff and leaving as Bryce just stood there. He said I brought it on myself."

Sarah studied him a second. "I know what I said earlier, but why do you think that Bryce betrayed you?"

"I don't know." Chuck studied Sarah for a moment. "He's had four years to call and set the record straight. I'm guessing he never mentioned me?" Sarah shook her head. He sighed. "And now that he's gone…" Chuck trailed off and he locked eyes with Sarah. "You know what? Forget it. Bryce has betrayed a lot of people, hasn't he?" Sarah nodded.

"Mm. Roger that," Casey said as he clapped Chuck on the shoulder and the three of them dove right back into the mission. They made their way to the library, and Casey's head was on a swivel. "We have to play this really cool. Magnus has the book number. He could have beat us here."

"You think he's in there?" Chuck asked.

Sarah turned toward Chuck. "Maybe you should stay here."

Chuck grinned at her. "Yeah, because that always works so well." She rolled her eyes at him. "You can't find the book without me. I'm going in." Chuck walked into the library and up to the security gate, and started checking his pockets. "Oh, no, no, no."

"Looking for this?" Casey asked, smirking.

"You stole my ID?"

"I borrowed it to reactivate it," Casey replied. "Sorry, I couldn't wipe the idiot grin off your face in Photoshop."

"Mm," Chuck replied, making a face but having no comeback. Back into the library...no...back into the Stanford library. Things were just coming up ducky today. They made their way through the library, Chuck remembering as he went. When they got to the spot he had been trying to remember, books were on the floor, thrown haphazardly.

"Oh, no," Sarah muttered.

"We're too late. Magnus beat us to it," Casey added.

Chuck wanted to say something smart—that he didn't need to be a spy to realize that—but he thought back to his and Bryce's dart gun games and how Bryce had always kept a hidden dart in a secret compartment. "Hold on," he said, studying the shelf. How did Bryce know there was a secret compartment there? ...A dead drop, isn't that what it was called? Was that what it was for that whole time? It was a dead drop and Bryce had used it to beat him in a game. Chuck shook his head, felt underneath the shelf and popped open the compartment. He pulled out the disc. "Gotcha," he said with a grin.

"The intel," the surprise clear in Casey's voice. The smile on Sarah's face was one of pride. He hadn't let the past beat him.

"The book number was just a way to mark the spot," Chuck explained. "Bryce used to hide darts there, when we'd….you know what, never mind."

"Bryce used a dead drop location to hide stuff for a game?" Casey asked, glancing at Sarah. She shrugged, appearing to look as confused as Casey and Chuck were, but Chuck caught her eye, and he didn't see confusion in it. He saw wheels turning. She was coming to the same conclusion he had earlier.

She looked at him. "Let's get out here before Magnus realizes that book he has is worthless."

"Hey, you, don't move," came the voice behind Casey. "Charles Bartowski?" Casey put a hand out stopping the scholarly looking gentleman from getting any closer. "You still owe the library $294.68 in late fees."

Casey gave Chuck a look, and saw Sarah's amused smile as she put the knife back from her hiding spot. "Do-do you take credit cards?" Chuck asked.

"Bad enough you cheat on the test and get kicked out of college, but basically stealing a book?" Casey retorted, smirking.

"This isn't funny," the librarian said, nearing outrage.

"Wait, why so much? The book can't cost that much," Chuck replied.

"Fine, $29.99," the librarian conceded. Chuck noticed Casey's eyes get wide and he turned around to see a figure go by the bookcase, getting into the same position Bryce used to when hunting him in the library.

"Chuck, run." Chuck heard Sarah say. He bolted past them. "Head for the back door, Chuck," he heard Sarah call out to him. Chuck bolted from the library with a bad guy on his tail. He cut through the tailgating madness and heard a crash behind him after he yanked down a banner. Hopefully the pursuer got tangled up in it and crashed into a table. He kept running, but stopped when he saw Ellie and Devon. He didn't want to bring them into this. He crawled under a table, trying to lose the bad guy.

He stopped in front of a pair of boots. A hand grabbed him and yanked him to his feet, and he thanked God it was Casey. "There you are," he said calmly. Chuck heard someone yell, "Hey, you, freeze!" And got an elbow to his face from Casey for his trouble.

Chuck was trying to catch his breath. "All right, they spotted us," Sarah said. "Okay, we have to go."

"I swear this school has it in for me," Chuck lamented.

He felt her take his hand and looked over at him She gave him a look of reassurance. "Come on." They took off again, and entered one of the buildings. They ran into a lecture room to hide while they tried to figure out their next move. Casey pushed the door open to check and see if the coast was clear, Sarah bent down and looked below him. Chuck, not wanting to be left out, crouched down and looked as well. It was Stanford. Maybe they had gotten into the robotics lab and one of those little droids like in Star Wars was rolling around close to the ground.

Casey closed the door and looked around the huge lecture hall. "We're safe for now," Sarah said to Chuck.

"I need to see what's on this disc," Chuck said heading to the computer. Sarah looked at Casey and Casey looked back at Sarah.

"Numbnuts, that's top secret, so…" He halted. "...you didn't see it." Chuck and Casey locked eyes and Chuck nodded. Sarah walked over to him.

"There could be answers on this disc about why I'm in the Intersect," he said to her, putting the disc in the computer.

"That's testing data," Sarah explained.

Chuck opened a file. "And videotaped interviews," he said. "These are students." He was getting more confused by the second.

"Exactly," Sarah said. She glanced at Casey who crossed to them. "Students that were recruited into the CIA by Fleming. Ten years' worth. It's all of their current information."

"No wonder Magnus wanted it so badly," Casey said looking at the data. "Foreign governments would pay for that."

"Look at this right next to 2002: Bryce Larkin," Chuck was pointing at the screen in disbelief. "Bryce joined the CIA our junior year?"

"Enough," Casey said. "Now we know what he's after."

Chuck continued to scroll. "No, wait, that's me! That's me!" Chuck looked at them. "I'm in here, too." Sarah and Casey shared a look and then glanced back at Chuck. "Click it," they said together. "I never applied to be in the CIA," he said turning back to them.

Sarah yanked her head toward the back of the lecture hall. "Chuck, get down!" What seemed like dozens of armed men came in and a fire fight began.

"You think this would be a good time for me to be waiting in the car?" he asked. Sarah gave him a flat look. "Sorry, when I'm scared I make jokes."

"I shoot people," Sarah quipped. Chuck raised his eyebrows and Sarah shrugged.

Chuck eyed the computer, and ejected the disc. "I have an idea," he said. "Get me out of here."

Sarah was in a crouched shooting stance. She looked him right in the eye. "Chuck, when I say go, run out the side door. Protect the disc. We'll cover you." Casey turned and shot a beaker, causing a chemical reaction...How did he know to do that? "Go!" Sarah shouted and he ran. Sarah laid down cover fire as he left.

He found the computer lab while crawling. "All right. Computers. Here we go." He got up, put the disc into the computer, found a number, and made a phone call.

"Hello?" came the voice on the other end.

"Hi. Hi, is this—? Is this Glenda Mitchell? We're in the science building. It's an emergency. Bring lots of big guns."

"I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number." Glenda replied.

"Crap, there's a code phrase." Fleming had told him the phrase before he was shot… "Are you coming to the toga party?" Chuck went down the list calling everyone he could, asking if they were coming to the toga party, telling them to bring ammunition and equipment for bad guy killing. He assumed guns but ever since he had met Sarah, he realized knives, plates, and just about whatever she could get her hands on did the trick. Suddenly his phone rang. "Agent Katz?"

Morgan's voice came over the line. "Yeah, hey, Frodo, is that you? I thought my codename was Samwise Gamgee."

Chuck bit back a scream. The last time he had called like this was during the bomb that he'd disarmed. "Morgan, this is really, really not a good time."

"It's not a good time here either, okay?" Morgan replied. "I'm stuck in The Hole doing customer service. Ow! These kids are animals."

"I'm at Stanford. What do you want me to do?"

"Do you have the code to Harry Tang's master remote?" Morgan asked. "I think I can use it to bargain for my freedom."

Chuck nearly broke the phone from frustration. "Okay, okay. The code is O-U-8-1-2-pound."

"Dude, this is why you're my hero. Thank you so much."

Chuck hung up, ejected the disc, and heard a sound behind him. He dove for the ground just before the crossbow bolt hit the PC where he had been sitting just a second earlier. He looked up from where he was splayed out on the ground as a plume of smoke rose from the destroyed machine. "WHAT IS WITH THE CROSSBOW?!"

But he shut his mouth quick and scrambled as fast as he could to the end of the aisle, swinging himself around into another aisle and crawling the other way, trying to be as quiet and as sneaky as possible.

As he reached the end of the desk, he halted, finding the tip of a crossbow bolt pointed at his face. He slowly turned and looked up at the Icelandic spy, eyes widening. "Please don't. I'm just—I'm just a guy. Kneeling in front of a spy. Asking him...not to shoot me in the face...with a crossbow." He gulped. "You don't look much like Hugh Grant, though, I gotta say."

Magnus slowly leaned closer, something twitching in his jaw as he did so. Chuck winced.

"Beeeecause you're much, much handsomer. Than Hugh Grant." The spy snatched the disc out of Chuck's hand. "Oh. Right. That." But then the crossbow was leveled at his face again, Magnus' finger closing in on the trigger.

Chuck's life didn't flash in front of his eyes or anything like that. Instead, he found himself wondering how the government would sell his death to his family and friends, the community, the papers. How do you sell death by crossbow in even a slightly normal way? He went back to Stanford for a football game and had a crossbow accident in the computer lab?

"DON'T!"

He looked up just as Magnus spun to point his crossbow. A young woman was flying at him boot first. It crashed into his chest and sent him to the ground right in front of Chuck, and without hesitation she went in for the KO, knocking the Icelander out cold.

She didn't even blink as she put her hands on her hips and looked down at him, calmly asking, "Are you Chuck Bartowski?" He nodded. "Just got your message. Are you okay?"

Relief spilled through him so hard and fast that he rolled over and collapsed onto his back. "I'm just glad you check your voicemail."

She smirked and shrugged, before reaching down to help him up. He just hoped the other recruits had understood his instructions. Otherwise Sarah and Casey were toast.

}o{

Sarah heard something at the back of the room that sounded like someone making a run for it, a grunt, boots moving across the floor, so she popped up just enough to shoot, catching the man trying to make for the door Chuck had gone through in the arm.

She didn't stop to see if he hit the ground, turning to shoot at the guy who'd popped up to take her out while she was distracted, but Casey got him right in the forehead before he could pull the trigger.

Two more of them started trying to make their way towards the front, one of them even leaping up onto the desks to foolishly charge at them in plain view. He was an easy target, and as Casey shot at the other guy, she buried two bullets in the idiot's chest.

As he crashed into the chairs behind him and hit the ground with a sickening thud, a third popped up and emptied a round towards her and her partner.

They ducked behind the desk in the nick of time and she covered her head as shards of wood rained down on her.

She let out a breath, hearing the guys who were left talking to one another, planning. And she knew she had almost nothing left in her gun. They were pinned down. She took the magazine out of her pistol and checked it. Well… shit. One bullet left. Hopefully Casey was fairing better. And then she thought maybe she shouldn't let him know just how fucked they were. "I got half a pack," she lied, slamming the magazine back in and pointedly not looking at him.

"I got two rounds left." Well, that was something. Not enough. But something.

"Drop your weapons and stand up!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. As if that was happening. They were even stupider than she'd thought if they really believed that crap would work with federal agents.

"Hands where we can see them!"

Casey let out an amused grunt next to her. At least they were on the same page.

She glanced at him, adrenaline pumping through her veins, making her breathe harder, and she used everything in her to try to slow her heart rate. She'd need to be cool and calm for this. One bullet… She had every reason to believe she might die today. But if Chuck got away, it would be worth it. There was no way to know if he'd gotten away.

Casey finally looked back at her and she saw there was steely resolve on his face. He opened his mouth and she thought she knew what he was going to say. Maybe he was gonna say he'd cover for her so she could go after Chuck. Or that he was going to go out with guns blazing. She didn't know if he knew what was going through her mind, or if he could tell she was ready to go out next to him. He'd been a really good damn partner, all things considered. If not the best partner she'd had, and in such a short amount of time that she'd worked with him, too…

But she cut him off before he could say anything. She'd save him the breath.

"I'm goin' for it," she panted. "You in?"

She knew he was. But he fixed her with a crooked smirk, his eyes lighting up. He didn't have to even say anything. There was respect there. And that meant more to her than she'd ever thought it might.

"I hate long goodbyes," he growled and she nearly laughed. Funny how these moments always seemed to happen at death's doorstep. Moments of connection, humor even, before going out in a blaze. She wasn't fool enough to think this would be a blaze of glory or anything as cinematic or epic as that. But she was going down next to a worthy partner, and in this job, sometimes that was the best you could hope for.

As long as Chuck had gotten away...

Nodding at one another, they popped up from behind the desk, weapons up and ready, but the door at the back of the classroom burst open then. Four armed...students?...rushed in, weapons drawn and pointed at the remaining men who'd all but won the battle just a moment earlier. At least, they thought they had.

They hadn't.

These were CIA recruits, she realized. But how in the hell…?

"Actually, why don't you drop _your_ weapons?" the girl yelled, the shakiness in her voice belying what might've been an epic line in some action flick.

Magnus' friends slowly lowered their weapons, dropped them onto the ground, and held up their hands.

"Looks like someone called in the cavalry," Casey muttered, shock in his voice.

"Good," she said, gun still pointed. Now that she knew they weren't going to die—at least not today—she felt the need to throw a curveball at him. "Because I only had one shot left."

She felt him do a double take next to her, his jaw falling open. And then she heard a low whistle, relief spilling out of him.

"Aren't you in Econ with me?" the girl recruit asked the guy standing next to her. Sarah glanced up, brow furrowed, and watched as he gave a crooked grin in response and nodded. It reminded her of… oh… oh God.

"Chuck."

She spun to look at Casey. He blinked, then clenched his jaw. "Me an' the kids'll handle this. You go."

Not needing confirmation, she'd already taken off, staggering towards the door Chuck had gone through and sprinting through two whole classrooms, realizing belatedly she still only had one bullet left.

If something had happened to Chuck, she'd put that bullet somewhere it'd do the most damage.

She shouldered open the next door and burst into the front of the classroom, surveying the room. But the second the door hit the wall, she saw Chuck pop up from where he'd been leaning against a desk and spin towards her with his hands up.

The young woman standing next to him had her gun drawn and was pointing it down at...she didn't know what...but she pointed her gun at her just in case.

"Hey, hey! Ho! Whoa!" Chuck held his hand out towards Sarah. "She's a recruit. She's...She responded to my call." Sarah lowered her gun to her side and breathed out in relief. "We've got a Magnus and a crossbow over here, though…"

And as she moved up the steps towards the back of the classroom, sticking her gun in the back of her pants, Chuck ducked down and popped up again with the crossbow in hand.

"I've always wanted to hold one of these...surprisingly light...whoa…"

Sarah ignored his genuine silliness, his coping mechanism, she knew by now. He'd just lived through yet another harrowing situation, this girl had probably saved his life in the knick of time, and he was dealing with it by being a damn goof. She didn't care who else was in the room; she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"Hey, who is this guy anyway?" the recruit asked.

Sarah pulled back from Chuck, keeping her hands on his arms, and she glanced at her. "You did good today. Really good. And your mentor is going to hear about it from me. But it's best not to ask questions."

Without arguing or questioning, the recruit nodded seriously.

And then she remembered what Chuck said when she first came into the room, and she spun to furrow her brow at him. "She responded to _your_ call?"

"Y-Yeah…" His body was quivering a bit under her hands, she realized belatedly. "I had just enough time to find a few of the recruits who were still on campus using the, uh, ahem, the disc and I called their cells, gave 'em the code phrase, told them where you and Casey were pinned down, and… This one over here checks her voicemails." He pointed at the recruit and grinned, earning a proud grin in return.

"My mom might drive all the way over here from Iowa to yell at me in person if I don't call her back in a timely fashion. It's just self-preservation."

Chuck let out a chuckle that sounded almost a little manic. And Sarah couldn't help it. She turned to look at him, the absolute freaking nerd—so quick to solve problems, to think of solutions, to think on his feet—and she was filled with...she didn't know what. Pride?

She grabbed his head in both hands and planted a hard kiss on his cheek.

He'd saved her life. He'd saved the disc. He'd saved the mission. "You are incredible," she said warmly, smiling at him.

And even though he didn't seem to have anything to say to that, a slow, crooked smile spread over his face and he shrugged. It looked so ridiculous with the crossbow in his hand still. But she was too focused on the speck of pride she saw there in his face, that confidence she hadn't seen through this whole screwed up Stanford experience.

However long that ended up lasting, it was worth the moment of unprofessionalism in front of a recruit.

}o{

"Sure you don't wanna jump in with us, bro?" Captain Awesome put his hand directly on top of Chuck's head. He was still probably a little drunk from the football game, though that was less about the beers during the tailgate (and the ones he apparently had during the game, too), and more about UCLA stomping Stanford in their home stadium.

"You know? I'm good, Awesome, thanks."

His sister's boyfriend chuckled and clapped him on the back this time. "Who'd choose a minivan full of gloating Bruins over a sleek and sexy Porsche, huh?"

The big grin was pointed towards Sarah as she sidled up next to Chuck and he heard her giggle warmly. "I'm just glad you were referring to the car and not me when you said sleek and sexy," she quipped.

"I've got my own sleek and sexy wom—"

"Okay, that's enough!" Ellie interjected, grabbing her boyfriend by his shoulders and starting to guide him towards the van. "We'll meet you two back at the apartment? Make sure that one doesn't fall asleep behind the wheel, huh, Sarah? Bring him home safe."

"Got it," Sarah said emphatically. And Chuck watched as Ellie reached out to squeeze his "girlfriend's" hand while the two women shared a smile.

"Does that mean you're gonna let me drive your Porsche?" he asked as they stood side by side and watched the caravan start to pile into vehicles in the parking lot.

Sarah laughed and crossed her arms, turning to give him a critical eye. "After that comment your sister made about you falling asleep behind the wheel, maybe not."

He held his hands up defensively. "Hey, now. I've never fallen asleep behind the wheel in my life. She was just making a crack. I'm a very safe driver. Hands at ten and two. And I use all of my mirrors before merging."

She snorted and put a hand on his arm, leading him towards her car. "In full seriousness, I am going to let you take the first leg. After we stop, I'll take over."

He noticed the way she rubbed her hand over the crook of her neck, moving it to her shoulder. And he stopped next to the car, not making a move towards the driver's side just yet, instead just watching her when she probably thought he wasn't looking. He couldn't figure out what he was seeing on her face in that moment, but it stuck in his mind. And he couldn't get it unstuck as he finally went and got in the car.

Sarah was relinquishing a bit of control to him, letting him take the wheel—literally. And it felt...strange. It almost made him a little worried.

So as they finally made their way onto the freeway to begin the five and a half hour drive, he found he couldn't stop himself from asking…

"Hey, um...Are you okay?"

He glanced at her, then turned back to watch the freeway in front of him. He felt the power of the car under his foot, under his hands, and it was making him feel a surge of adrenaline. This was why people liked sports cars, wasn't it?

That wasn't important. What was important was that Sarah was giving him a long look, like she was studying him in the dark interior of the car.

"I'm fine," she said finally. "Why?"

"Oh, I'm just asking. I mean, we were shot at today. And then we had to sit in a group of loud, rowdy not-in-college-anymore frat guys to watch the second half of that dumb game. Not sure which is worse."

She giggled quietly. "The guns, Chuck. Definitely the guns."

He gave her a crooked grin. "So you _are_ okay, though?"

"Yes." There was a pause at the end, almost like she had more to say. "It's just been a long, tiring day. Guess I'm ready to debrief and sleep."

"You have to debrief when we get back?"

"Yeah. Figure I'll drop you off and pretend to leave, park down the street, and sneak back to Casey's place where we'll debrief."

"Am I coming to that?"

"Not this one."

There was something in the quiet tone of her voice that made him feel the need to ask, "Why not?"

"We still don't know why you're in the Intersect. Not you now, but you in college."

"That was a recruitment list and I was on it, Sarah."

"I know." She didn't look at him. "But there's a lot we don't know, and I have a sneaking suspicion both Graham and Beckman have the answers, always had the answers. I'm going to try to get to the bottom of it, though."

The disc he'd surreptitiously slipped into his front pocket in his pants was suddenly poking him in the thigh. As if reminding him it was there. He hadn't handed it over to Casey and Sarah yet. He probably should've. But he still hadn't seen what was on it. He hadn't pulled up the file with his name on it, and he needed to know.

"And I can't be there for that."

"They don't want you at the debriefing, Chuck. But I won't keep what's said there from you. I promise. If it is something important. Something you need to know."

He nodded. And then he licked his lips, eyeing her while she stared out of her window into the Northern California landscape as they began to enter farm country. "And you're sure you're okay."

She sent him a look, furrowing her brow. "I said I am. Why do you keep asking? Do I look like I'm on death's door or something?"

"No, no...You look the way you...always look. Which is to say, your usual stunning self." She ducked her head a little and nibbled on her bottom lip. "No, um...it's just that you're not only letting me drive, you're also...quiet. Not that you're usually loud. I'm not gonna pretend I know you super intimately—that wasn't the right word, I just mean I'm not making assumptions. I just feel like you're...subdued. A little."

"I told you, I'm tired."

"No, I-I got that. Right. Sorry." He swallowed thickly. "What happened? I mean in that room, after I left with the disc. All those guys—Magnus' guys—were still in there."

"Oh. Um...well, they-they pinned us down, and the recruits showed up thankfully. That's all. Then I went to find you and make sure you got away from there safely."

Chuck nodded. "They had you pinned, huh?" He licked his lips slowly, keeping his eyes on the road. He meant what he said, about not wanting to make assumptions about Sarah. But he couldn't help wondering if today's hairy situation had gotten hairy enough for her that it had rattled her. He didn't want to ask. She wouldn't like it if he asked. Not just because of her pride, but he imagined she had other reasons for keeping that stuff locked away. But he still had to ask. "Do you ever get used to that?"

There was silence for a few moments. And then, "Used to what?"

"Being shot at, getting pinned down by bad guys, surviving by the skin of your teeth… Is that something a spy gets used to? Or are you still terrified in a situation like that?"

When he looked at her, he thought maybe she didn't know how to answer, that he'd pinned her down for the second time today—this time with a personal question instead of the bullets Magnus' men used.

"You don't have to answer that. I ask a lot of questions, I know. I just know I can't imagine myself ever getting used to this. Running for my life, holding...a fuckin' crossbow some Icelandic freelance spy dude was just about to skewer me with before a CIA recruit interceded on my behalf…"

"No, it-it's okay, Chuck," she interrupted. "Yeah, I'm...I still get scared. For a second there, I guess I thought that was gonna be the end for me, and for Casey. It's not a good feeling." She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I wouldn't say that I'm used to it, I've just learned how to handle it. How to compartmentalize to survive. I'm not impervious to fear."

Chuck shook his head. "No, of course not. You're a human being. A particularly bad ass human being, I gotta say."

She let out a one-note giggle and shook her head. "I was trained for this. It's my job."

"Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't. And you're still just...Well, anyway…" He cleared his throat. "I've got my playlist still if you want to listen to it. Or we can just do the quiet thing for now. That works, too. I'm not tired at all. Still got that adrenaline goin'. I mean this was a _day_ , huh?" He could feel her eyes on him, quiet and soft, and it was making him a little nervous because he had no idea what she was thinking, or why she was looking at him like that. So he began to ramble. "I genuinely thought that Stanford parent was going to knock Awesome's friend all the way out when he gloated about that last touchdown. What's his name? Gavin? Yeah, Gavin. Honestly, that guy has been a dick since forever, so he would've deserved it if he'd been laid out. I don't know why such a nice guy like Captain Awesome lets that big ol' dick hang out with them still. Probably just a frat brother thing. But…"

And he kept rambling, even once they decided to put music on after all. And the only thing that finally made him stop was when Sarah fell asleep at the beginning of the second hour of the drive.

It was the first time in the last month or so that he'd known her that she'd slept around him. He knew how ridiculous he was, that he was probably over-thinking it, but it meant a lot to him. She didn't seem like the kind of person who trusted easily. And here she was fast asleep next to him, seemingly trusting him to not only get them home to LA safely, but… Well, she'd dropped her guard completely. Willingly.

Casey had said something to him one day at the Buy More, when they found Jeff snoring in a demo lawn chair at the back of the store behind a cardboard stand-up. He had told Chuck that there was no other time a person was more vulnerable than when they were sleeping. And Casey had promptly slipped his foot under the leg of the chair and knocked it over, sending Jeff tumbling onto his back in what was a pretty rude awakening. Literally.

The prank aside, Chuck thought Casey was probably right. Sarah'd made herself vulnerable here in this car with him. And maybe it really wasn't that big of a deal. Maybe he was making it into a big deal when she fell asleep in front of other people all the time.

But he was going to hold onto this, as well as the way the tension seemed to seep out of her shoulders, her brow smoothed, lips a bit pouted, worry gone from her beautiful features. And not for the first time, he wondered just how old she was. Without that spy mask of hers, without the face she put on sometimes with his friends and family, and without the responsibilities this whole operation or whatever it was had placed on her shoulders, she looked really young. Maybe even younger than he was. And it made him want to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight.

It was a foolish urge, but he had it nonetheless, and he focused on driving, getting them to the rest stop Ellie had texted him about, quietly humming the music he'd turned down so that she could sleep.

He was going to take this, for however long it lasted at least, and lock it away for safe keeping somewhere inside of him.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for still reading. More soon!

-SC and DC


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** I know we're 30 something chapters in, I know it's been slow, but prepare yourselves. All that building is about to begin to give you our vision of this show. Canon is our map, but we like to go off-roading every now and then. And there are some things….we're just gonna go our own way. (And if Fleetwood Mac is now stuck in your head just be glad it's not Michael Bolton, SC's all time favorite artist.)

You are sooooooooooooo lucky I still let you have that joke. So lucky. (shakes head) -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from this fic.

* * *

Sarah kept her eyes on her director's face as Casey went through the details of what happened up in Palo Alto. She let him take lead during the debriefing because the sun was just starting to come up and she was tired.

She'd accidentally fallen asleep during the drive, meaning that Chuck had done most of the driving. And she'd been out for almost three hours, he'd informed her once she woke up at the rest stop. When she'd tried to apologize, he'd just shrugged it off like it was nothing at all.

The truth was, she'd gotten a little caught up this time in just how close she'd come to death. She'd been so sure that was it. She'd been ready for that to be it. Or maybe not. Maybe she wasn't ready at all, and that had been what left her so shaken. That she didn't want to leave just yet. Not now.

Casey could handle this part, and she'd just stand back and watch, study how her superiors reacted.

"So? You have the disc?" Graham asked, leaning a bit closer to the screen. Beckman's face was immovable.

And Casey didn't seem to know how to answer that. It must've just occurred to him that they'd both neglected to ask Chuck to give it to them. She'd purposely let him hold onto it for a bit, and maybe that wasn't professional, or well-advised. So she was batting 0 for 2, she supposed. Oh, well.

"Yessir. We have the disc."

"Good." He nodded once. "We need to make sure that gets back to us safely, and Fleming won't have died for nothing."

This time Sarah did see something...just a little something...and maybe it was nothing…

Beckman shifted her fingers where they were locked together on top of her desk, just so. Even as her face belied nothing. What was that about, she wondered? If it was about anything at all.

"Just out of professional curiosity, where did those recruits come from?" Graham asked then. "None of us contacted them."

"Chuck did it, sir," Casey said, lifting his chin a little. "He saved our asses. Went through that disc and called recruits who were still attending the university, got them to us for back-up."

"The...asset…"

"Chuck called them?" Beckman sat up taller and blinked.

"General, he thinks on his feet better than some agents I've worked with," Sarah admitted, keeping a professional mien, hands folded behind her back, spine straight. "If those recruits hadn't arrived, Magnus' men would've had us. We were outnumbered and out-gunned."

Graham was looking offscreen, his brow furrowed. "He found them on that disc, did he?"

"Yessir."

"That was quick thinking. He did good work." He looked back at her, then at Casey. "If that's all, agents, take the day off. We'll make sure Mr. Bartowski gets a day or two off as well. He's earned it."

"Sir...General…"

The screen went blank and Sarah let out a long breath, slumping a little.

"If you're so tired, why don't ya get some sleep?" Casey asked. "I'm right across the courtyard from the kid. I can look after 'im. I'm sure he'll just be sleeping himself."

Sarah shook her head. "No, we need to grab that disc from Chuck right now. We shouldn't have let him keep it for this long."

"Hmng. Somethin' tells me you knew what you were doin' letting him keep it, knowing I'd be preoccupied with the recruits and clean-up and I'd forget."

She didn't answer, nor did she meet his sideways glance. Instead, she went to his closet and popped it open, grabbing a small duffel where she kept a change of clothes. "I just need a quick refresh after that drive. Mind if I use your shower?"

Casey shrugged. "Nah. Want me to go grab that disc—?"

"No." She shook her head. "No offense but it'll be easier for me to get it." And she wondered if he'd looked at it yet, or if he was winding down with Ellie and Devon. Or maybe he'd just plopped onto his bed to fall asleep. Casey had the cameras off so she couldn't go look. She didn't really want to.

After a refreshing, hot shower, she'd be in a better state of mind. And maybe he'd have time to figure out just what it was that had put him on the CIA's radar all the way back when he was just a twenty year old college student.

It took her only fifteen minutes to shower, get dressed, stash her bag back in the closet to pick up later, and stand at the front door of his apartment. She knocked lightly, just in case everyone was asleep.

But then the door opened and Ellie stood there. She was smiling but looked confused that Sarah was standing there after she'd watched her drive off a little over two hours earlier. "Hey! Sarah!"

"Sorry, I didn't know if you guys were gonna be asleep after the all-night drive."

"Oh, no. Not yet. Come in. I don't know if Chuck's asleep yet or not, but I fed him so he might be dozing." She snorted at the way she phrased that, like he was a hamster or something. "You're not sleeping, or…?"

"Oh, I will later. I thought I'd just...um, be more comfortable here. So I went home, showered, and came back." Ellie was watching her with a strange look on her face, one Sarah couldn't decipher. "I...hope that's okay…?"

"Oh God, of course!" Ellie giggled. "It's so okay. You can show up whenever you want. Especially because you're comfortable here. I mean, you know...you know what I mean." She squeezed her arm. "I'd say he needs some cheering up after his school got spanked on the football field, but I think he probably doesn't care all that much. If anything, it probably felt a little satisfying."

"I, uuuh, I think you might be right about that." Sarah wrinkled her nose and giggled. "I'll just head in there...see what he's up to."

"Well, Devon and I are gonna go fall into bed and not get up for thirty hours, but if you need anything, just...get it. Food or whatever. Make yourself at home."

Sarah smiled and nodded as Ellie squeezed her elbow and left her alone. And as she finally made her way down the hallway, she saw that Chuck's door was open. She oh so slowly and silently snuck up to it and peeked inside of his room. He was sitting at his desk, his elbows propped on his knees, the disc in his hands. And he was looking down at it with his brow furrowed, turning it over in his fingers with slumped shoulders.

She had a feeling he hadn't looked yet, that he was working himself up to do it.

And she watched as he finally opened the case and scooted in to slip the disc into the computer. He stared at the screen for a few seconds and she thought maybe she should make her presence known.

"You didn't think we'd let you keep that, did you?"

He spun to look at her, a million little creases between his eyebrows. She'd expected him to look caught, perhaps, or sheepish. Instead, he met her gaze, even sat up a bit straighter. "I need to know, Sarah."

If he'd looked guilty, she didn't think she'd be as eager to give him what he wanted in this. But he wasn't letting them yank him around. He was standing tall, even as he sat with somewhat slumped shoulders, even though she could see he was downright terrified about what he'd learn if he clicked on his file. He was getting his own truth, even though he probably thought her superiors at the very least didn't want him to know it.

So she crossed her arms and nodded. "Okay, Chuck."

Sarah reached back and quietly shut the door as she came into the room, crossing to stand beside him as he scooted his chair to the side to make room for her. She wondered what was going through his head right at that moment. What were they about to see? Would this answer all of their questions?

She shifted her weight nervously and then turned to meet the look Chuck sent her. He was nervous. And in spite of wanting to, she kept from putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Who knew what was in that file? And she wouldn't allow herself to reassure him in case it was something really terrible, or difficult to take. She didn't want to be giving him even a speck of false hope, only to have it crushed by whatever he discovered.

As Chuck turned back and took a deep breath, he clicked on his name. A video file popped open, revealing Dr. Fleming looking into the screen. In spite of there only having been five years between this video and them finding him the other day, he looked a lot younger. As though the last five years had aged him significantly...Poor guy.

"Test subject 0236. Bartowski. This will be his first interview," he said into the camera, before turning around and grabbing his phone. "Send Chuck in," he said, hanging up the phone again.

And a few moments later, the door opened. Instead of Chuck walking into the room like she'd expected, wondering if maybe she'd have to stand here and watch the moment he was accused of cheating, the moment he was expelled… Bryce stepped into view and shut the door behind him. God, he almost looked like a kid. So much younger than he'd been a few months ago, the last time she saw him alive. But there was a lot in his face, gravity, a wiliness without the guile or charm that had first pulled her in when they were assigned to work together.

"Bryce!" Fleming said, thrusting a hand out, palm up. "This isn't a good time. I'm waiting for another student."

Bryce didn't even blink, just standing there and staring at his professor. And then he walked up to the chair and sat down. She felt Chuck spin to look up at her. "Chuck Bartowski… He never got your message," Bryce stated calmly. And she met Chuck's confused look with a steady one of her own, in spite of her insides churning in the worst way.

She squeezed her own biceps hard, nibbling on the inside of her lip, as he looked back at the screen. And she stared at the screen with him, even more worried about what she was about to see.

She had a feeling this was going to get worse, what with Bryce having just admitted to intercepting whatever message Fleming had meant for Chuck to get so that he'd miss this meeting.

"What are you talking about?" Fleming asked Bryce.

"You put Chuck on the CIA recruitment track…"

Oh God. Her hand fell onto the back of Chuck's chair and she squeezed til her knuckles turned white.

"It's not up to me, Bryce. They want the top students, with the highest scores. There is no one within the last, God, ten years or more who is _this…_ " Fleming shook his head and looked down at his papers. "He is the only perfect score we've gotten. Ever."

"Omaha...Isn't that a military operation? Professor, they'll turn Chuck int—"

"This is information I am required to send in to the agency, Bryce. This is my job. This is _the_ perfect candidate."

The perfect candidate. Chuck Bartowski. The man currently sitting beside her, face pale, jaw slack. The same man who'd had the brilliant, life-saving idea to call the recruits in yesterday afternoon. But this was also the guy who'd showed up at the funeral of someone who'd betrayed him, ruined his life, twice. The guy who'd turned a retail store upside down to make a self-described too-tall ballerina's day. The perfect candidate. Perfect score on his test. Perfect. Candidate.

"I want my friend outta this," Bryce said, looking the professor right in his face.

"It's not up to you, Bryce. Or me. This guy can change the world if we put this brain of his to use. Look." Fleming thrust the paper towards Bryce, but Bryce was pointedly not looking, his jaw clenched. When he didn't look, Fleming huffed in frustration and pulled the paper back, tapping it with his finger. "Keywords in his essay responses correlate to over ninety-nine percent of the images in the exam. This guy is it. He could change...everything. I can't not send them this. This is my job on the line, too."

"You don't get it," Bryce cut in, leaning forward. "On paper, he's the perfect candidate. Yeah. Maybe. But the CIA isn't just about what's on paper. This guy isn't gonna make it on a military operation, okay? He's a good person."

Sarah felt Chuck tense, and she didn't have the wherewithal to hold back the tears that flooded in her eyes. She put it together pretty easily. She knew what she was watching. And she knew what was coming next. And if she knew, a guy who'd scored perfect in the CIA recruitment test (without really even knowing what he was taking) definitely knew.

"Look, he's got way too much heart for this kind of work."

"Bryce, you're not looking at the big picture. He wouldn't be doing what you're doing."

"How can you know that for sure?"

"I've been doing this a lot longer than you. You have these ideas about what this agency is, and maybe you're basing that on your own experience, but you're going to take this kind of decision away from your friend?" Fleming asked. "This is a huge opportunity. It could change his life."

"Oh, come on, Prof." Bryce sat back in anger. "I'm not stupid. We both know he isn't gonna have a choice. That's not how this works. And you can't put him out in the field! He's not an operative. He won't survive!" He full on slammed his hand against Fleming's desk, his voice shaking. "Take him off."

Fleming let his head hang and he shook it, before looking up at Bryce again. "He's already in, Bryce."

"You've sent it already."

"No, I interview first. But they aren't gonna let a recruit this good go. He's in no matter what."

Jesus Christ. Her heart felt like someone had grabbed it in a fist and was squeezing. There was abject desperation and frustration in Bryce's face. It was a look she'd never seen on him. She'd only seen cool, calm, collected, that suave nature of his that charmed everyone he came into contact with. The mischievous flash he'd always had in his eyes, in that smirk. She'd never seen him like this. She'd never seen any kind of fight in him, not against the CIA. He followed orders. He'd always just...followed orders. That was why his disappearance, and his treachery against the government had caught her by surprise. He'd never let her see any kind of disillusionment. It had all been fun and games. And that really pounded home for her just how shallow and empty their relationship had been outside of the partnership during missions. She'd never known him. He'd never let her know him. And vice versa.

More than anything, though, he was about to completely change the trajectory of his friend's life, erase him from the CIA's radar. But he'd also ruin his life at the same time. And in spite of everything, in spite of the thought of Chuck decked out in a military operation—Omaha or whatever that was—terrifying her out of her mind, she felt angry.

She could see the gears turning in Bryce's head. And she wondered if Chuck had stopped breathing altogether next to her.

"If he cheated…" Oh God, no. This was it. The air around Chuck had gone cold. "If he cheated on the exam, copied all of his answers, that would invalidate the results, wouldn't it? He'd be taken out as a recruit…"

"Yes…" came Fleming's dubious, careful answer.

"Good." Bryce nodded once. There was no hesitation in him, no reluctance, no remorse. "Now you're going to help me, Professor." And he gestured to the camera behind Fleming's desk, causing the man to reach back and end the recording.

Sarah blinked, looking down at her boots, taking a deep, silent breath, and fighting away the remainder of the tears. They both knew what had happened then. Bryce slipped the answers into Chuck's desk, they were found, and he was expelled.

"Bryce framed me for cheating," Chuck said quietly, sitting back against his chair. She had to quickly move her hand to keep it from being crushed. "To keep me out of the CIA. He thought...he thought he was saving me, though."

And he'd ruined Chuck's life in another way. She wasn't exactly sure she liked the idea of someone like Chuck being thrust into that agency the way she was, forced to see and do the things she'd had to see and do herself. She hated idea of what that would do to him. And maybe Bryce was right to be concerned, to be protective. Chuck must've been special then, too, and Bryce was close enough to him to know it. And someone as special as Chuck deserved a normal life.

But he also deserved to decide the trajectory of his own life. Even at twenty-one, or however old he was at this point, he wasn't a kid. He was an adult. And he didn't deserve to be treated like a kid.

She hadn't had a choice. She'd had to do this or...well, she didn't know where she would've ended up if Graham hadn't appeared in the woods that day. But Chuck should've been able to make the choice for himself.

"Sarah, he thought what he did was right… I don't know… I don't know how to deal with this, with what he did to me, the decision he made for me, and why he did it. But he thought he was right. He could've just...just told me that, though. He could've told me instead of humiliating me in front of everyone, and-and sleeping with my girlfriend, too, by the way. Why didn't he just tell me the truth, Sarah?"

She hated the way he was looking at her, desperate for her to have the answer. An answer that made it all feel less awful. She didn't. She couldn't give him that. Not this time.

"Because he couldn't tell you the truth. By this point, he was already an agent."

That answer didn't seem like it was enough for him as he huffed and shook his head. She didn't blame him one bit.

He buried his face in his hands then, pushing them through his hair, before groaning and sitting back against his chair. He looked absolutely miserable. "I know I'm always givin' people the benefit of the doubt, but if-if he did what he thought was right here—I mean, if he thought he had a good reason for this, for getting me kicked out of Stanford—maybe he had a reason for breaking into the Intersect."

 _The perfect candidate._

"Maybe." She looked down at him, the anguish in his eyes. "And maybe he had a reason for sending it to _you_."

As much as she still wanted to strangle Bryce Larkin, as much as he was conceited, egotistical, and patronizing in his presumptuous actions in Fleming's office that day, he'd wanted to save Chuck. He'd been trying to protect him. And his heart had been in the right place. With how much information Chuck could apparently retain, something he'd proven by acing that test, Bryce must've known Chuck's brain would be a safe enough place to put the Intersect.

But the danger that would then put Chuck in…

And after he'd pleaded with Fleming to take Chuck out of circulation, getting Chuck kicked out of college, ruining his life…

There was still so much that didn't make sense.

"I just wish I could talk to him," Chuck said in a half-whisper. He was just gaping at the screen, and she could see his mind was going a mile a minute. Probably thinking about the same things she was thinking about. But perhaps with a little less anger than she had, since he really did tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, even if they didn't really deserve it. Then again, who the hell was she to try to assume what he was going through right now? He had every right to be even angrier than she was.

This was his life.

"It must've torn him up to stand there and watch me leave mortified and shamed that day, not being allowed to tell me why he'd done it, letting me hate him. It must've been so hard."

Chuck's voice sounded broken this time, and she looked down at him, surprised. That? That was what he was focusing on? Not the fact that Bryce had chosen his future for him, even if he had meant well, even if it was what he'd thought was best for him?

Sarah tightened her mouth and pressed against the fleshy part of her face under her eyes with her fingers to push back the tears that threatened. She needed to get out of here. She needed to take the disc and get out. She just needed to go.

This had been too much at once. The partner she'd thought had betrayed her, her country, this man ten times over…

She didn't have the full picture, it seemed. Maybe he hadn't betrayed them. Or maybe he had, and he'd had a good reason. Maybe he wasn't a traitor. And maybe he was a better man than she'd known, even if his methods were patronizing—and that wasn't even a strong enough word. What he'd done was awful. But he'd tried to rescue Chuck from death or a fate worse than that.

She was confused, feeling hurt and vulnerable, and she needed to remove herself from...everyone.

"No one can know about this," she said, struggling to keep her voice level. She walked around Chuck, feeling his gaze on her as she leaned down to eject the disc and put it back in its case. "For your own safety, okay?"

He was just sitting there, confused and hurt and vulnerable, just like her. But she needed to get out of that room and into the quiet safety of her car. Where she could work this out on her own.

Deal with the emotions that were raging inside of her.

"Sure," he muttered as she walked away from him without so much as a goodbye. She ducked out into the hallway and shut the door behind her, clamping her lips between her teeth and blinking to keep from crying.

And she walked away. She kept walking, willing her feet to keep moving until she got inside of her car.

But then her feet stopped and she looked down at the disc in her hands. She wasn't the only one who'd just been through the wringer with what was on this thing. He'd been sitting there numbly, alone, his face crumbled in a mess of awful emotions.

He was all alone, damn it. And she was walking away because she was feeling intense emotions of her own.

Letting out a slow breath, she turned and glanced down the hallway at his door, and she walked right back to it, turning the knob and pushing it open.

Chuck was hunched over in his chair, fingers buried in his hair, elbows on his knees.

He looked up at her, confusion taking over the surprise at seeing her there. "Hey. W—uh…"

Sarah shut the door and slowly walked back to him, wagging the disc in the air and raising her eyebrows. "This was a lot to take in. For you. Are you okay?"

His brow furrowed and he frowned...but then his eyes cleared a little and he let her see a small smile. "You didn't have to—" He gestured to the door.

"I know." He saw more than she wanted him to sometimes and it made her nervous, but she stayed where she was. "But first thing's first. I meant what I said. Nobody can know." She held out the disc towards him and he sat up, slowly reaching up to take it from her, their fingers brushing.

"What, um…" He looked down at the disc.

"Can you take your name off of that?" He frowned at her. "I mean erase any trace of you that is on there. Can you do that?"

"Sure. Easy." He shrugged. "But…"

She took the disc back, opened the case, and stuck it back inside of his computer, dropping the case on his desk and putting her hands on her hips. "Especially after seeing what's on here, Chuck, I can't let anyone know how close you came to being the CIA's top recruit."

He seemed to shiver at that, as though her putting it into words had brought it home for him. "You don't think they already know, do you? They seem to know everything else, stuff we don't even know. What if they knew about me all this time?"

Sarah paused at that. What if they did? ...No. She shook her head. "Listen, Chuck. Bryce went to a lot of trouble, as did Professor Fleming. They framed you for cheating, got you kicked out of Stanford, and taken off the CIA's radar." She swallowed thickly. "I didn't know Bryce Larkin the man—something I'm coming to realize even more than I already had—but I knew Bryce Larkin the spy. I saw him on missions. He doesn't half-ass anything. He wanted you taken off the radar? Then trust me, they didn't know about you." She shook her head and watched as he turned to stare at the computer, scrolling to his name and highlighting it.

"Sarah… Erasing me off of this disc...that's some serious tampering. I don't know how things work in the CIA, but couldn't it get you into some trouble?" She heard the way he focused on the repercussions for her, not even seeming to worry about what it'd mean for himself. God, the CIA would've eaten this man alive.

"Chuck, this is dangerous enough for you as it is. With the Intersect in your head. They have no idea about these tests you took, or the scores you ended up getting. If they knew they had the Intersect inside the head of a...perfect candidate…" She saw it dawning on his face. "They could easily use that in a way we'd have no way to control, Chuck. When you're just...a Buy More employee who accidentally had the government's secrets implanted into his brain, you're…"

"Just an asset," he finished for her. "And if they knew I could be more than that, that I was this close to being a recruit…" He scratched the back of his head. "You think they'd send me on missions on my own? Train me? Make me an agent?"

"I don't know what they would do with this kind of information, Chuck. And honestly, that scares me. You have to delete it." And then she stopped herself and eased back against the desk, leaning into it, shaking her head. "No, you-you had the ability to choose for yourself back at Stanford taken from you. Bryce made the decision for you...and whether it was good for you or not, it wasn't right."

She crossed her arms at her chest and gestured at the screen with a tilt of her head, flicking her eyes towards it before meeting his gaze seriously. "I won't tell you what to do here. You decide. You leave your name there, I'll take this disc and give it to my superiors. Someone will find you there eventually, they'll find out you're a lot more than just a Buy More employee, and...well, I don't know what then." Chuck looked down at his lap, almost glaring. "Or you take your file out, delete it, and they never know. Both Bryce and Fleming are dead. You and me are the only two living people in the world who know how close you were to being a top CIA recruit. We're the only two who know about that test."

Chuck nodded. "And things will continue as they are, just like this."

"Probably."

"You think I could really do this? I mean, if Bryce hadn't… You think I could've survived the CIA? Or would I be dead right now? Like Bryce predicted."

Sarah shut her eyes tightly, then shook her head. "Chuck, that's a hard thing for me to answer. You'd be trained, like those recruits were. You wouldn't be...this Chuck. There's a whole process that you haven't gone through. So it'd be...different."

He nodded. "I'd be different."

"Yeah. And...I don't know if I can make that kind of judgment."

"Bryce had no problem making that kind of judgment. I mean, he was pretty sure I'd get myself killed."

"Bryce thought he knew everything there is to know about everything. He was like that on missions, too. He always had the right way for everything and everyone else was wrong. It's how he operated. But I can't make this decision for you, Chuck. You need to make it for yourself."

Chuck reached up and tapped something on the keyboard, and just like that, his name disappeared. The names around it slid together to fill the space. The file was gone.

"Bryce was pretty sure I wasn't cut out for what you do. And while I'm sure you're right, that he was full of himself like that, he probably had me pegged in this. That isn't why I just deleted the file, though. I deleted it because you aren't sure. And you're being fully honest with me about not being sure, Sarah. We're going to move forward as is, you and me on the same page, and we're gonna take this a day at a time. No way in hell am I gonna throw another curveball into his absolute clusterfuck of a situation. Not when you're so unsure." He shook his head, and when he looked up at her again, there was resolve there.

And not for the first time since she met him, she thought about kissing him. Instead, she shifted out of the way so that he could take the disc out and put it back in the case. But God, she really thought about it. She wanted to.

He handed her back the disc and she nodded. "Okay, Chuck." And she stuck it in her pocket. "Are, uh, are you...okay, though?"

He let out a long sigh and shrugged. "No. I mean, I'm not sure what I am, but I know what I'm not and that's 'okay'. I'm not okay." He got up from his chair and went to his bed, falling onto it haphazardly and covering his face with his hands, just lying there on his back limply.

Sarah tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear and nodded. "Yeah, I don't blame you at all."

He moved his hands into his hair and he just stared at the ceiling. "For five years, Bryce Larkin's name alone made me feel like there was a black hole in my chest, devouring everything in its path. You know that feeling? Like...he was my best friend, the guy I told pretty much everything to, you know? And he up and got me kicked out of a college I'd worked my damn ass off to get into, wrote a million essays to get grants so that I could afford it in the first place… And God, he did me so dirty with that. But then sleeping with my girlfriend. And I believed the worst about him all this time. The _worst_. I mean, my family for the most part knows not to even talk about him, that busted-ass game night aside."

Sarah found herself snorting quietly at the way he'd said that. And she wandered over to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. "I believed the worst, too. You aren't alone."

"Yeah. I know. This must really suck for you, too." He pushed himself to sit up just enough to lean on his elbows, looking up at her with those understanding, soft eyes of his. "He was more than just your partner, and for all intents and purposes, you've all been led to believe he betrayed his country. Now it seems like maybe he...didn't."

She shook her head and turned to face him better, pulling her legs up under her body and tilting her head to rest on her shoulder as she watched him. "Maybe he didn't. But for someone who apparently cared enough about you to jeopardize his own spot in the CIA to tamper with their recruitment tests and get you tossed out when you were easily their best candidate to date it seems like...he really screwed the pooch with sending you the Intersect—harnessing you with the most dangerous possible situation he could've harnessed you with. I mean, I just don't get it."

Chuck plopped back onto the bed and shrugged, crossing his arms and turning his head to meet her gaze. "He stole it from the CIA, from the NSA, and put it in my head. For...what? Safekeeping? I mean, he chose a guy with no spy skill sets whatsoever. He made sure of that." He scoffed and shook his head.

"It's complicated," she admitted aloud, her voice still quiet. "Because on the one hand, he was trying to protect you. On the other, he took away your choice. And if I were you, that would be unforgivable to me." It was a little unforgivable, she had to admit, because it had happened to her in a sense. Graham had trapped her that day almost a decade ago. She'd really had no choice even though he'd outwardly given her one. What it had really come down to in her seventeen year old mind was a choice between the CIA and death. She'd chosen...well, not death.

"Would I have had a choice if he hadn't done this?" Sarah frowned in response to that, raising her eyebrows. And Chuck sat up, shifting to face her better. "You heard Fleming. If they'd gotten my test results, if they'd seen how high my percentile ended up being, they wouldn't have allowed me to get away."

She huffed and shook her head. "That is a good point. And yet...he still took that choice from you. It wasn't right. Even if his intentions were good."

"Are you saying I shouldn't forgive him?" He leaned a little closer, a bit of a smile playing at his lips.

She rolled her eyes at him and smirked. "I'm not telling you that. I still don't quite know where I'm coming down on all of this, except that even with that file erased, we're going to have to be extra careful. If Bryce had a good reason for doing this—and for as long as I knew him, he tended to do things with purpose even if he was an egotistical jerk…"

"True," Chuck said. His eyes widened then. "Uh, the doing things with a purpose thing, not the egotistical jerk thing…" Sarah made a face and he chuckled. "Okay, fine. Both."

She sniffed in amusement. "If Bryce had a good reason for breaking into the Intersect, and for giving it to you, taking it away from the entities my superiors represent, the entity I'm supposed to represent...that means he was trying to get it away from us. From the CIA, the NSA. Keep it safe with someone who wasn't affiliated with them…"

"He made sure of that, too," Chuck drawled in a flat voice.

She winced a little. "What this all means is I need to be on my guard with General Beckman and Director Graham...him especially maybe. I need to be careful about what I reveal to them, how much I say, how much I let them see. And I need to pay closer attention."

"I hate this."

He looked miserable. Absolutely miserable. So she put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly.

"I know. I get it. It's hard to know where you stand, and how all of this is going to play out. But you're not alone. You've got me. And Casey."

"That's true."

It was. For now. And as she leaned in to give him a comforting hug with one arm, putting her chin on his shoulder as he hugged her back, she found herself thinking that if he hadn't erased his file from that disc, he wouldn't have had her or Casey for much longer. And she was infinitely glad he'd chosen to trust her.

}o{

Casey reached forward and turned off the monitor. He'd delete the footage from the room later, after he finished cleaning his gun.

}o{

 _Fort Meade, MD_

As the smaller woman made her way down the hallway of the medical facility, she knew she had to make a decision soon on what to do with her agent...and the CIA agent...and, well, Chuck. She wanted to call him the asset, but Graham had dehumanized him enough. It was obvious Graham's agent was flying blind...but if anyone could fly blind and excel at the same time, it was Sarah Walker. It was amazing the job she had done, and there was no doubt that Chuck was unlike anyone Sarah had ever met. Most of the men Agent Walker had met were either criminals (jerks), CIA agents (jerks), or men who thought a lot of themselves (jerks). It had to be strange to be treated like a real person, which Beckman was sure Chuck was doing. She would expect nothing less after watching the surveillance tapes.

She opened the door to the patient's room, happy to see he was recovering nicely. "Don't speak," she said gently. "We have plenty of time for that once you recover. I'm General Diane Beckman with the NSA."

"Why am I here?" the patient asked.

"Professor Fleming, I need to know all you can tell me about Orion."

* * *

 **A/N:** WHAAAAAAAAA? You two broke Chuck and Sarah's POV?...ain't we stinkers.

(Mhm, you can smell our stink just about anywhere in the world thanks to the Internet! - SC)


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** Wait...is it THAT ep? Canon... _ISH_

 **Disclaimer:** We own nothing.

* * *

The bell on the Wienerlicious door jingled and she looked up, a smile coming to her face. "Hey, Chuck." She had seen him just hours earlier, after a stakeout mission had been a bust. It had just been the two of them, Casey had been following a different lead. An arms dealer had been spotted in LA, and it was all hands on deck to try and find him. There had been multiple reported sightings of the dealer and they had been pulled into the stakeout, since they were in the area. Their job: watch, don't act. Since Chuck couldn't be left alone with no one watching him for that long, it was decided he would go with Sarah and play it off as a cover date. Chuck had brought a mix CD and of course, Michael Bolton was on there again, earning him an eye roll. She had to admit, stakeouts with Chuck were much better than they'd been with anyone else.

"Are you as tired as I am?" he asked, yawning and sitting at the counter. He raised his eyebrows and barely nodded his head toward the back room. She gave a slight head nod to let him know Scooter was back there.

"What happened to pulling an all nighter in college...or playing a video game?" she asked with a smirk.

"Oh, I can do that just fine, missy," he replied, getting a look for the missy comment. "But I'm still tired the next day, and you keep harping on me not to drink my energy drinks. You're kinda turning into a nagging girlfriend."

She leaned across the counter and looked him right in the eye. "You like it," she shot back, grinning. She knew she probably shouldn't but they both knew how far they could go...at least she did. He returned her grin. "Want lunch?"

"Sure, surprise me," he said. She got the freshest corndog and fries and placed them in front of him. "Wow, I am special. You gave me a fresh outta the oil one." He leaned in to conspiratorially whisper. "Scooter won't like that."

She leaned in to where their noses were just an inch apart. "I don't care."

Chuck smiled and sat back. He took a bite, and nodded. "Not bad, Sarah, not bad."

"Thank you," she chirped and turned back to her fryers. It was a good day, she hadn't burned corndogs all day, and—

 _"Baaaby, I-I want to be, your soul provider, a-and I-I wanna stay that way, for the longest time. Baaby, I-I want to be, your soul provider. Just say you'll let me, and darlin' I-I will."_

Sarah froze just a bit, then got hold of herself again and sent him a bit of a roll of her eyes over her shoulder. His nose wrinkled mischievously even as he focused on his corndog, as if he knew she was giving him a look.

He chomped on his corndog and chewed, so she turned back again. She had to admit, when he wasn't doing that teasing singing he'd done in the car every so often, he had a nice voice. Warm, smooth…like silk or honey or something. She was glad he'd stopped and seemed to be focusing on eating. And then he kept going.

" _I know you've been hurt, I know you're love shy…_

 _You don't have to say it, baby, it's gonna take some time."_

She slowly turned toward him, her jaw slack, and the humor was in his face. He was playing with fire here and he knew it.

 _"Ya got my heart in the palm of your hand. Swear it's gonna stay there, baby, give me half a chance…"_

He stopped as she stared at him, and he stared back, his brown eyes glinting wickedly. "Hey, Sarah."

"What, weirdo?" she asked, trying to play along as best she could even though that look in his eyes and the honey in his voice had unsettled something in her in a really good way.

"Your corndogs are burning."

She wanted to bury her head in the fryer with that one. She spun around to yank them up. She got them, took a deep breath, and turned back toward him, but Chuck was staring at his phone, terrified. "Chuck?"

"Ellie," he barely got out. Panic was all over her face. "She and Awesome. Want to go out. On a double date. Sushi."

"Oh. Okay, no big deal," Sarah replied. "We could say no."

Chuck snorted, then looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, you're serious. You actually believe that."

Sarah giggled. "Chuck, what's the big deal? We've double-dated before."

"Sarah, the dates have been in a controlled environment, at the house, with the TV or a movie on, or Morgan is there to distract them. I'm gonna blow it." His eyes widened. "Sarah, for the love of God, it's sushi!"

She studied him for a second. She could tell Chuck knew he was on panic level ten, but he didn't care. She knew him, and she knew that this was big. "Okay," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the store room. They got inside and she grabbed him by the shoulders peering into his eyes. "Chuck, you can do this, just be calm. This is easy. Here is what we did. We went to a movie, we had a few snacks, went back to my place, and we talked about my job."

"No," Chuck replied. She gave him a look with a raised eyebrow. "No, no, no," he hurried out and she couldn't help the amused look she gave him. "We can't have talked about your job, it has to be something else. Ellie already gave me the whatfor last time about it."

"Stanford?" she asked. "Or college in general? Maybe thinking about finishing your degree?"

"Do you think I should?"

"I mean, what could it hurt?" she replied with a shrug. "Do you want me to help you look into it sometime?"

Chuck stared at her. "You'd do that?"

"Chuck," she said, giving him a look. "Why wouldn't I?" He grinned at her. "Okay let's go through it from the top, you ready?"

"Maybe we're in over our heads," he replied, worry in his tone.

"It's time," she said, staring into his eyes. Was she trying to give him confidence?

"Sure it's not too dangerous? That story...college, she might….you know….go all Ellie."

"I'll be an inch away."

"I'm scared," he admitted.

She squeezed his hand. "Let's go over it again," she said in a voice that she hoped made him feel reassurance. She thought he was starting to feel okay about this. "Make sure we have our bases covered."

He started to speak but it all seemed to overwhelm him. "God, who'd thought going out to sushi with my sister and her boyfriend would make me so freaked?" He turned to face away from her.

"Okay. Last night we saw a movie."

He turned toward her again and pointed a finger. He didn't realize that wasn't smart to do to her, but she let it go because he was trying to get into the zone. "What was my snack of choice?"

"Pfft, easy. You sprinkle milk duds over your popcorn," she replied with a grin. She didn't care that he knew what she was doing, and she didn't feel bad at all about turning it into a game. "Player's choice," she said, making Chuck raise his eyebrows. "What was I wearing?"

"Blue top, little buttons," he replied automatically.

She was a little taken aback. "Oh, you like that one?"

"I like all of 'em," he replied, getting a soft smile from her. "It makes your eyes pop… Is that a thing, I think it is a thing." She grinned at him spiraling. "Ah! I know, spiraling. What movie were we watching?"

"Resident Evil, something, something?"

"That will work, but you don't know the plot."

"Hot girl kicked zombie ass," Sarah replied with a bounce of the shoulder.

Chuck thought for a second. "You're not wrong," he admitted. "Now—"

They were cut off with the door handle being rattled. "Why is this door locked?" they heard Scooter mutter.

Chuck glanced at Sarah as she began to adjust her clothes. "What are you doing?" he got out before she yanked him down to the floor and attacked his neck with her lips. The door opened and Scooter towered over them.

"Wow! Girl on top. Nice, Chuck," Scooter said, rolling his eyes. "Ms. Walker, when Herr Wienerlicious signs your paycheck, I doubt he's factoring in make-out breaks with your Boy-Toy." Scooter walked off.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said to Chuck who was grinning like an idiot. She began to rebutton her top. "I had to act fast."

"Can I get my name changed to that on my driver's license?" Chuck asked. She stopped what she was doing and stared at him. "Sarah Walker's Boy-Toy." She shook her head, got up, pulled him up, and shoved him out of the storage closet, both of them grinning.

"Bye, Sarah," he said, heading out the door.

"Bye, Boy-Toy," she replied. She turned to see Scooter staring at her and she glared at him. "Not a word."

}o{

Chuck was having trouble concentrating at work, thinking about the big double date later that evening.

The bell on his desk rang twice, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Hi," he said to the tiny brunette woman who appeared quite flustered.

"I keep pressing the button and nothing's happening," she said, gesticulating with the phone with each syllable.

Chuck had seen this before, she was seconds from a full-on freak out. But he also knew the normal phone problems that cause said freakout. "Is it fully charged? 'Cause sometimes this model—" He began reaching toward the phone.

She jerked it away, her eyes intense. "My entire life is in this thing. Okay? I got names, places, dates, times, music, photos, recipes."

Chuck was a little taken aback at the amount of intensity coming out of her. "Wow, uh, you-you cook, too?"

She glanced down, a worried look crossing her features. "What if I lose everything?" She paused, and then turned to go. "You know, I can't start from scratch. I can't be the person that I was before this thing came along." She spun back, waving the phone in the air. Chuck had come around the corner ready to chase after her. "Okay, I'm freaking out!"

Chuck used his most calming voice and smile. He had dealt with many panicked customers in the past, but she was just the most intense ball of passion about her phone he had ever seen. "Listen to me, uh…"

"Lou."

"Lou? Really?" That had thrown him. "Lou, I wouldn't put…" He stopped and realized she needed reassuring. "This is kind of my world, you know? This is what... This is what I do, and I-I do it pretty good, so…" he paused and gave her his most trusting smile. "Trust me."

She seemed a little more at peace and after two tries, gave him the phone. "Okay." She put the phone in Chuck's hand. "I know I'm totally freaking out. I'm sorry. It's just...a little overwhelming to even consider…"

"No, no, no, no, no. Don't go there. Come back. Go to a happy place. Is there something that you think about that quiets the voices that are in your head?"

She closed her eyes and a smile spread across her face. "Turkey." Chuck's eyebrows raised slightly. "Muenster cheese. Egg bread. Grilled."

"Was that a, was that a sandwich?"

"Yeah, they're my passion."

"Uh, that…" he was a bit blown away. "Sounds pretty delicious."

"I own a deli in the mall and I often think about meats and cheeses," she explained.

A woman after his and Morgan's own heart. "Ah, yes. Who doesn't?" She gave him a huge smile, finally seeming comfortable. "Look, I-I, uh, I promise you that if you come back tomorrow, your phone will be all fixed up and good to go. Okay?"

"Really?" she asked, relief evident on her face.

"Yeah."

"Thank you. So much. It's been nice talking with you, Chuck," she said, glancing at his name badge to get his name, and then turning and leaving.

"Yeah, you too, Lou," he said, happy she was calmed down. Oh God. He had just rhymed her name. "That rhymed. I-I-I didn't actually mean for that to rhyme."

"It's okay," she chirped.

"Okay," he replied, knowing he had sounded like an absolute idiot.

Morgan walked across his field of vision. "Mind-cheater," he said in a sing-songy voice. "I saw you."

"Saw me what?" Chuck asked, not sure what was going on.

"Saw you what? Dude, are you kidding me? Mind-cheating on the trusty meatball marinara with the broken phone girl. And why wouldn't you? The sandwich she described….I wanna chew on it 'til I make myself sick." He looked at Chuck. "But you, well, gee whiz, Chuck, you said there was no better sandwich."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Name Sarah ring a bell? Beautiful blonde, attended A Night of Morgan? We discussed the best sandwiches?"

"I don't believe—"

Morgan pulled out his phone and hit play. "You just can't do better than a meatball marinara sub," Chuck's voice said. "I know it's a classic, and kinda simple, but it's just the best." Morgan cut off the recording and just stared at Chuck.

Chuck looked away. "I didn't actually tell her the one she described was better."

Morgan shook his head. "You know, just because you didn't actually say how you felt about that sub doesn't mean you didn't want to. Think about that. Mind-cheater." Morgan tried to poke at Chuck's belly.

"Don't," Chuck replied, slapping his hand away.

"Saw yoooou," Morgan said in a sing-songy voice. "Another Night of Morgan with my best bud Sar soon?"

"Get. You know she hates that and Harry's coming," Chuck warned. Chuck watched Morgan run away and suddenly realized he was quite hungry.

}o{

Sarah fixed her jacket a little as she moved to knock on the apartment door. She wasn't ready for this by any means, but worse than that, she was pretty sure Chuck was even more...not ready.

It was supposed to be an easy thing. A double date with his sister and her boyfriend. But she thought Chuck had a tendency to overthink everything. And especially if it involved his sister.

And now he had her a little nervous, damn it. Though maybe it was less about Chuck making her nervous. Instead, she wondered if the butterflies were more about the fact that she still hadn't given Chuck much to work off of, he had almost no information about her. Almost nothing since they played that embarrassing game a few weeks ago. Maybe they should've gone over more than what they did at the movies. Maybe she should've made a dossier of fake Sarah before this. That would've made them both feel so much better about this double date.

Or maybe she was letting Chuck get to her.

Before her knuckles could make contact with the door, it was ripped open and Chuck hurried outside to join her, shutting it behind him. She stepped back, eyes wide. "Uh, hi there. I was actually trying to get _in_ , not get you out."

He ignored her. "I saw you through my bedroom window and thought I'd intercept you before Ellie and Awesome know you're here."

"Why? Did something happen? Anything wrong?" she asked, widening her eyes, fixing her purse over her shoulder.

"No. No, no. Everything is fine except that I'm freaking out. Awesome offered for us all to go in their car. _Together, Sarah_ ," he hissed, slamming his hands together between them. She jumped a bit at the suddenness of it and looked down at his hands, then up at him.

"Uh. Okay, well...That's okay, right? Saves gas."

"Sarah!" He gave her a look that was so frustrated that she almost laughed. He probably wouldn't appreciate that. "Carpooling with them means a whole twenty to twenty-five minutes being trapped in the car with them. No escape. You can't excuse yourself to go to the bathroom when we're all in a car. You actually have to answer questions."

She bit her lip and quashed her amusement, trying to keep it from showing on her face. And then she put her hands on his biceps. "Chuck, just answer questions normally, right? And then I'll follow your lead."

He blinked. "What?"

"Answer their questions. I'll just adjust, follow your lead." She shrugged. "That's kind of what I do all the time. I've got it."

Chuck furrowed his brow and looked around, then looked down. "Oh. You just made it sound...kind of easy."

"You're welcome."

He smiled a little, then his face turned self-deprecating. "Sorry. I've had a few hours to work myself up. Maybe."

"It's okay. I get it. Just...act the way you always do around them. It's not like you are gonna scare me away."

Chuck snorted. "Good point. You're sort of stuck, aren't ya?" The big cheesy grin made her smirk. "Come to think of it, this isn't such a bad situation—Ah! Ow!" He cowered and laughed as she smacked his arm.

And as he caught her by her wrist, the door beside them opened. They both turned to see Ellie standing there, surprised. "Oh! Sarah's here!" Then she looked back and forth between them. "Uh, ahem. Sorry."

The implication was clear. He'd come out here to kiss her out of view from his sister.

Chuck blushed. "Uh…"

"Come in!" Ellie rushed out, rescuing him from the fire she'd sort of dropped him into. It was a pretty interesting dichotomy, Sarah thought.

They went into the entryway as Devon came out of the hallway, car keys in hand. "Anybody in the mood to pre-game? I've got vodka for shots!"

Sarah tilted her head. "Probably not. But thank you, Devon."

"You got it, Sarah. Let's get a move on, then."

Ellie slung her arm through Sarah's then. "Hope you don't mind. The three of us sort of decided we'd all go in Devon's car. So we can chat."

She shook her head. She didn't mind, but Chuck had nearly had a panic attack about it.

Devon slung his arm over Chuck's shoulders and tugged him in tight, the latter sending a look over his shoulder at Sarah as if checking to see if she was okay, or maybe he was looking for reassurance...she couldn't tell.

"Let's get some SOOOSH!" Devon yelled as they walked through the gate.

This was...probably going to be a long night.

}o{

Chuck had seemed relieved when they were forced to sit at the bar instead of at a table. Probably because it made conversation a little harder.

The questioning he'd been so worried about hadn't actually happened in the car. Instead, Ellie had asked Sarah about the Weinerlicious, which she'd used as an opportunity to rant about Scooter and the customers and the outfit for almost the entirety of the ride.

Chuck had sent her the most grateful look ever, and the hand holding they'd done for the cover as they sat in the backseat had afforded him the opportunity to squeeze her hand in thanks.

And now she had some sake and she was set.

Prepared.

For whatever Ellie and Devon threw at her and Chuck.

"So do you guys come here often?" she asked, looking at the couple to her right. She dipped a California roll in her soy sauce and wasabi mixture and put it in her mouth.

"Only for special occasions," Devon said, lifting his cup of sake. "Like thiiis, huuuh?"

Everyone followed suit and did a small cheers, before sipping their drinks. As Devon threw an arm over the back of Ellie's chair, Sarah saw Chuck follow suit. She leaned back against his arm and smiled at him as his hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed.

"It's been a while since I've had good sushi," Sarah admitted. "So I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea what to choose here. The California rolls are really good, though."

"Oh. Hey. Don't worry, I got this." She turned to look at Chuck as he smiled. The way he raised his eyebrows, he was seeming to ask her if she trusted him. She gave him a small head nod and he cleared his throat just as their own personal itamae swung back towards them to take more orders. "So the spicy tuna roll, please. Annnnnd we're gonna do the dragon roll as well." He glanced at Sarah. "We can share that one. You'll like that one. Umm…" He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Oh! And also—And also, a…" He paused looking at Sarah for approval. And yet there was a confidence in the way he was ordering, as though he genuinely knew exactly what she'd want. "A crab hand roll for my lady. Light wasabi. But, like, _light_ light...almost as if you just washed your hands in the residue of previous orders' remains."

When he sent her a proud look, she smiled back and nodded. He'd just done a pretty damn good job, she had to admit. And his insistence on the light wasabi was honestly cute. He must've noticed how she painstakingly made sure not to get too much wasabi to mix with her soy sauce, picking some of it away and storing it at the side of her little dish. Or he was just particular about his own wasabi. She liked to imagine it was the former. Chuck had a habit of paying attention.

In a way no one else ever had. It was why she didn't feel like this double date would be as bad as he thought it'd be.

"Didn't realize how old-fashioned you were, Chuck." Devon winked.

"Why?" Chuck challenged, seemingly sitting up a bit straighter after her approval. "Because I was ordering food for my girl? I guess I just know what she likes."

She spun back to look at him when he said 'my girl' and watched as his confidence level rose even more. She played off of it, sending him a flirty look. "You sure do." She grinned and leaned in to bump him with her shoulder affectionately. "Thanks, sweetie."

"You're welcome...sweetie." He blushed at that, the pet name sounding pained as it came out of his mouth. He really needed to work on that. But he was doing really well. And this seriously was almost fun and not bad at all.

"No, no. Old-fashioned as in how slow you guys are taking things." Devon munched on edamame as if he'd just mentioned how chilly it was outside instead of commenting on the pace of their sex life.

"DEVON." Ellie's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she spun to look at him like he'd just grown a few extra heads.

"What?!" Sarah couldn't help exclaiming, even as she plastered a big, beaming smile on her face, even letting out a breathless giggle. She felt Chuck tense beside her, the silence coming from him deafening. She didn't feel like she should look at his face at the moment.

And she watched as Ellie's hand disappeared until the table and jammed her elbow into her boyfriend, making him jerk. But other than that, he ignored the pointed jab and kept munching. "You two spend a helluva lotta time together, practically joined at the hip, but that's, uh, not where you're s'posed to be joined."

Ellie slowly turned away from her boyfriend to look at Sarah, like a horror film slow-turn, eyes wide, painstakingly pulling edamame out of her mouth in a long string and dropping it onto her plate. The look she gave Sarah was very clearly _I do not endorse this. I am so sorry. Please don't break up with my brother._

And to think just a minute earlier, she'd cockily thought about how easy this night was so far.

"It's like, uh, the east wing of our apartment took a vow of celibacy," Devon apparently felt the need to continue.

"Honey, I'm going to choke you with your stethoscope," Ellie murmured through her teeth, before turning back to send Sarah the most apologetic look ever. And then she turned it to Chuck.

All Sarah could do was laugh in disbelief, trying not to look offended. She finally glanced at her cover boyfriend and saw that he was merely staring at Devon with the most pained look ever. As if he was silently asking him why in the hell he was doing this to him. She felt terrible for him.

"I feel like—" Ellie elbowed him again. "What? It's not anything to be ashamed of. You two are just so cozy during movie nights, ya know? And—ow! Stop jabbing me with your pointy elbows, babe. You two were totally making out when Sarah first got here. I'm just wondering."

"It's because it's none! of! our! business!" Ellie groused.

"They say that oysters are an aphrodisiac, though. We can get some o' those." Devon chuckled, shoving a whole pea pod in his mouth.

"Are you drunk?" Ellie asked him in a flat voice. "Say one more rude thing and I'll make sure the west wing in the apartment is the celibate one."

"I'm just teasin' 'em, come onnnn." He reached over and good-naturedly patted Sarah on the shoulder. Sarah giggled and shook her head at him. "I like watching Chuck turn magenta. Through that whole thing, you looked like you'd just had a whole spoonful of wasabi, bro. But I'll stop," he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Play time's over."

"I'll say…" Ellie murmured, widening her eyes apologetically at Sarah again. "Who wants some edamame, though—oh shit…"

As she desperately grabbed the bowl to pass it to Sarah, she swiped her sleeve against the wasabi and ginger on her own plate.

"Your sleeve," Sarah drawled, immediately grabbing her napkin and dabbing it in her water to help Chuck's sister. She could feel how much Chuck had shrunk with Devon's teasing, and as much as she believed the guy that he was just ribbing them and probably didn't actually know if sex was happening or not, she couldn't help thinking _not awesome_ in his direction.

She swiped at Ellie's elbow and then scrubbed the little spot a bit, until it looked like she'd gotten it.

"God, thank you, Sarah. I'm a wreck."

"Oh, no worries," she chirped back.

"Hey, El, uh...when you retiring that sweater, huh?" Chuck bumped Sarah's arm with his. "She has had that for, like, a decade or more and wears it all the time."

"It's cute," Sarah said, smiling at him first, then at Ellie.

Ellie sent her a happy look.

"Hope she doesn't get rid of it," Devon said, grinning.

"It's my lucky sweater," his girlfriend explained. And Sarah couldn't help wondering if Ellie had worn it tonight on purpose if it really was so lucky. The implications of that were pretty clear to the CIA agent. The lucky sweater might make the night go well and maybe it'd push some of its power onto her brother and his new girlfriend, too. It was sweet if that was the case. And she felt warmth blossom in her chest as she watched the other woman push her sleeves up to hide the wet spot on her elbow.

"More like _my_ lucky sweater. She wore this the first time I met her in an epidemiology class." He slung his arm over Ellie's shoulder and she seemed to naturally just melt back against his chest, looking supremely comfortable there.

"He told me that L.L. Bean must've stolen the color from my eyes so it really belonged to me."

God, that was the worst pick-up line. It was terrible. And even Chuck let out a snort behind her. But the look on Ellie's face, and the tone in her voice, told her that Ellie didn't think it was bad at all. She was happy. And wasn't it kind of precious that she still remembered something like that even after a couple of years?

Devon kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and not for the first time, Sarah realized just how in love the pair was. Genuinely in love. And for how corny and sometimes goofy as Devon was, Ellie was incredibly taken by it, and by him. And she was warmed by it, and maybe—just maybe—she felt a prick of envy. Normal, good people like this were allowed to just fall in love, say corny shit to each other, eat edamame, and not have to worry about what to say or do. To just live and love and…

"Heh...that's...great," Chuck murmured behind her. Sarah turned to him and raised her eyebrows, receiving a slight shrug in return. "I told Sarah my parents were sadists when we first met, didn't I, Sarah?" He chewed and chuckled at the same time.

She bit the inside of her cheek at that. "True. That's true."

"Oh, God. How are you sitting here right now after that?" Ellie asked, sending Chuck an eye roll.

"Uh, because this charming so-and-so then got a bunch of employees to help him make a little ballerina's day," she said warmly, putting her hand on his leg where the other two could see it and leaning into him with a smile. "And!" She turned back to Ellie and Devon, raising her eyebrows. "He walked away from me and my blatant flirting to do it."

"It was not easy," Chuck said, putting his arm around her.

"I don't know about that, but I do know that it was really sweet." She shrugged at Ellie in particular. "I guess I'm a sucker for an altruistic guy."

"You found the right guy then, Sarah. Nobody's more altruistic than our boy Chuck." Devon grinned with abject affection at the younger man and winked.

"I'm really starting to get that, yeah," she admitted. And Chuck really couldn't know just how much she was circumventing the cover. How much she actually meant it. He was sweet. He was altruistic. And there really was something so special about that.

"Hey, now...You're all making me blush."

She reached up to fix a curl from his forehead and giggled at him. More food was placed in front of them, then, and they did more eating than talking from that point forward.

By the time they were leaving the restaurant, laughing after Chuck teased Devon this time about his bottomless stomach, Sarah found she really had enjoyed dinner. And Chuck's choices were top notch. The guy knew his sushi, and she had this odd feeling he knew her tastebuds, too. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Ellie turned as they hit the sidewalk and preened up at her boyfriend. "Thank you for dinnerrrr," she drawled, and he wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her solidly.

Oh.

Well…

As the kissing continued, Sarah realized she and Chuck were just standing there awkwardly, side by side, watching. So she turned and wrapped her arms around Chuck's torso, giving him a quick tug against her. "Oh," she heard him mutter, and she felt his arms loosely surround her body. His face was expressionless as he looked away and she felt a stupid amount of shyness as she twisted her lips to the side and diverted her own gaze.

Wasn't it the new couple that was supposed to be all over each other? And here were Chuck's sister and her boyfriend cuddling and making out on the sidewalk in public, while she and Chuck were awkwardly holding one another like two thirteen year olds at a school dance.

They really needed to fix this. They needed to do better with the physical affection. And they needed to make clear that there was physical intimacy here. It had been over a month, almost two months now, and people needed to think this was a regular... _normal_ relationship.

But shit, she needed to tell Chuck that somehow without him collapsing into a heap at her feet.

"Listen, you all wait here. I'll go grab the car and drive up to getcha." Devon pecked Ellie on the lips again, then strolled past them.

When Ellie dropped her gaze to Sarah and Chuck, she inherently held onto him even tighter, smiling at the other woman.

But anything they might've said was cut off by the sound of glass breaking down the sidewalk. Sarah tensed as she looked over Ellie's shoulder. The brunette spun to follow her gaze and they all watched as a man who looked insanely drunk staggered towards them.

But she'd been a spy for too long to know the difference between too much alcohol and a drug. Or a poison.

The man immediately crumbled a few feet from Ellie and the doctor leapt into action. "Sir? Are you okay?" He merely groaned and went limp on the ground. Sarah could tell by Ellie's immediate look of concern that she could also tell this wasn't merely alcohol poisoning. "Can you tell me your name?" But his eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Someone call an ambulance!" she barked over her shoulder, but Chuck already had his phone out, calling 9-1-1.

It only took a few minutes for the ambulance to arrive, and Sarah stayed close to Chuck's side, holding onto his arm with both of hers and watching in concern as Ellie did everything she could to keep the man alive and conscious.

The EMTs got to work, lifting him onto a gurney as Ellie told them she was a doctor and gave them orders. Sarah watched with a small amount of awe as Ellie went into the man's pocket as they wheeled him to the ambulance and tossed his wallet in Chuck's direction with deadly precision.

"Chuck, check for his medical ID."

"Yeah, got-got it," he said as he caught the wallet cleanly and dug through it. "That's—That's my sister, saving that dude's life!"

Sarah had a terrible feeling about this as Ellie climbed into the ambulance with her patient. Why was a poisoned guy hobbling around the LA streets at night? What was going on here?

Chuck pulled a card out and she felt his whole body tense, before a shiver wracked through him. Oh, no…

A flash.

She spun to look at him in worry. "Chuck…?"

He looked sick as the ambulance pulled away and sped to the hospital. "That's my sister, saved that bad dude's life…" This time there was less pride there, and a lot more fear. Shock and fear.

"Chuck," she whispered, turning him towards her. "What did you see?"

But just then Devon pulled up next to them at the curb and staggered out from behind the driver's wheel. "Did Ellie just get into that ambulance? What happened?" he asked, grabbing Chuck by the collar of his jacket.

"She-She was saving a guy...A guy was…" But Chuck wasn't functioning well, it seemed.

"We were waiting for you when this super drunk looking guy came from nowhere and passed out next to us. We called an ambulance and Ellie went with him to the hospital to see what she can do, I think."

"Oh. Shit. Hope the guy's okay. What a way to end the night." He still had some concern in his face, but there was way less of it now that he knew his girlfriend wasn't the one who was hurt. "Well, let's go home. I'm sure she'll be along as soon as she can. No sense in waiting around here."

Sarah guided Chuck to the car.

"No, no. Wait. Let's-Let's go to the hospital. Yeah!" He finally awoke from his stupor. "Yeah, let's do that! Let's...Let's just meet her at the hospital. Maybe we can help."

Devon frowned. "Uh, bro...probably not. He's got a whole med staff that can help him. Ellie can handle it. We'll wait at home."

Chuck looked panicked. When Devon walked around to the other side of the car, Sarah was shocked to find Chuck grabbing her by her arms and pulling her close. "Sarah," he whispered desperately. "That guy's from the Department of Energy...I think he's stolen codes...nuclear codes. Ours."

"What?" she asked.

He thrust the ID card into her hand. "Mason Whitney is a bad guy and my sister is trapped in the back of an ambulance with him right now."

"You two lovebirds comin' or what?"

They both turned to look at Devon, already sitting behind the steering wheel and waving for them to get in. Chuck opened the passenger side door for her to get in, then moved to climb in back.

Devon hummed along with what was on the radio, saying a few words here and there, but Sarah spent the drive eyeing Chuck in the rearview mirror. As the streetlights flashed across his window, bathing his face in light, she saw intense worry there. She was sure Ellie was fine, and would be fine. She was used to this sort of thing; it was her job. She was trained for it. And yet she couldn't really blame Chuck for being freaked out, could she?

When they got back to his apartment, she grabbed onto his hand as they walked through the courtyard.

"I'm gonna just text Ellie and let her know we got home. Great dinner, Sarah. Don't be a stranger, huh?" Devon went in without them as they halted by the fountain.

"G'night," she called after him, and then she turned to Chuck. "It's gonna be fine, okay? Trust me."

"What if it isn't fine? What if he has some kind of nuclear poisoning and he goes full Venom and eats everybody in the hospital, Sarah?"

She gaped at him. "Oookay. I don't know what Venom is, but I'm assuming it eats people and I don't think you need to worry about that, Chuck. But you are really, really worried, I can see. Should I...stay? Just, you know, until she comes back okay?"

He frowned. "You—Um, you wouldn't mind? I'm losing my shit a little bit here."

"I can tell. And hey, no real girlfriend would abandon her guy when he's half-hysterical with worry like this. Let's go in and you can show me one of those comic book movies you talk about all the time. Or a-a video game? Distract yourself."

The look on his face was almost amusing. "I can't tell if you're serious."

"Chuck. C'mon. I'm not offering again."

He huffed, smirked a bit weakly, then nodded and they went in together. Devon was nowhere to be seen, probably in his and Ellie's bedroom, so they walked right through to hole up in Chuck's room.

"You know what? I'm gonna call and just check. Just see if she...maybe she needs us or something. I'll just…" He grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

"Chuck, she probably won't answer if she's in the thick of trying to save that guy's life."

"But just in case!" He already had the phone up to his ear, fidgeting, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Hey! Hey, El. It's me, your brother Chuck. Listen, call me. I'm, uh, we're all here just waiting to see if things are okay. So um, even if it's just a text, 'kay? Okay. Love ya."

He hung up and thrust the phone out towards her in a panic. "Sarah, she didn't answer."

"I told you, she isn't going to answer if she's currently attempting to save someone's life, Chuck. Please try not to freak out."

"How?"

She went to his TV and turned it on. "Look, just...put on a game or something. I'm going to send that info to Casey and see if he and Beckman can come up with anything on him. See why someone might've wanted to hurt him."

Chuck nodded. "You're gonna tell me, right? If he's super dangerous?"

"Yes, Chuck…" She pulled her phone out and called Casey, explaining everything and making short work of it, too. Chuck looked to have already died a few times in the game and she thought he was supposed to be good at these things or something. He was out of his mind and it was bad if even she couldn't calm him down.

After the phone call, she just sat next to him, watching him shooting plasma looking things at large robot looking things. How he even saw the things he was supposed to shoot at as quickly as he did…

But then he hit a button to make the screen freeze and he grabbed his phone from his pocket again. "It's been almost an hour and she hasn't called or texted back, Sarah. I'm gonna just...see if…"

Sarah sighed and put a hand on his arm. "Chuck, I know you're worried about your sister, but I don't know if she wants eighteen voicemails in her phone when she finishes up."

"I won't leave a voicemail, I'll just...I'm just calling, that's all." A few moments later, he growled in frustration and hung up the phone. "She didn't answer again."

"Well, just...just keep playing the game, huh? It'll be fine."

Another half hour went by and it seemed like he'd only gone five minutes before he'd tried to call again...and again...and again. Each time, Ellie didn't answer. He even asked her to try with her own phone, and just to keep him from hyperventilating, she complied, trying to give Ellie a call. It went to voicemail and she ended the call. Nothing.

She could tell him again not to worry but she knew it wouldn't do anything. She just had to hope Ellie came back soon.

"Look, Chuck...I'm gonna use the restroom, but maybe play a game you're not so good at. Something challenging. So you have to use your mind for something other than obsessively worrying."

"None of these games are challenging for me, Sarah. Look who you're talking to." That was almost a little cocky and she found herself inwardly smirking at it. "But sure...sure, yeah. Okay. Maybe I'll see if Awesome's heard from Ellie."

She didn't have the patience to tackle that again, so she just shrugged and went to the bathroom.

By the time she was finished, she peeked her head back into his room to find the TV off, the room empty. So she went down the hallway to see that Devon had taken up residence on the stationary bike and was pedaling away like a speed demon, not seeming too worried about anything. And why should he? He knew better than anyone how the job required situations like this.

Chuck was pacing however, his phone clutched in his hand. When he saw her come up, he spun to face her. "Hey! Hey, do you think Ellie's okay? Should I call the hospital again?"

Had he called the hospital? Jesus…

"You've called ten times in the past twenty minutes," she said, giving him a look.

"Yeah, but—I know but what about—what about sweaty nuclear guy?" What now? "What if he hurts her?"

"Come on, Chuck. People saw Ellie climb into that ambulance. What did the hospital say when you called?"

"She came in with the patient, he was in critical condition...uh…"

"See? People saw her at the ER. She's gonna be fine."

Chuck didn't seem all that convinced, but before she could try again, Devon stepped in behind Chuck and popped his earbud out, grinning. "Hey! You spendin' the night?" Chuck turned slowly to face the doctor, gritting his teeth, and Devon put his hands up, mid-drink from his water bottle. "Whoa, I wasn't—wasn't goin' there. Geez, bro. I was just foolin' at dinner. But really, Sarah, you spendin' the night?"

She raised her eyebrows and trapped her lips between her teeth.

"Yyyeaaah, uh...actually, Sarah's just hangin' out 'til Ellie gets home. Y'know, since that was kind of a trying situation and she knows I'm sort of having some struggles. Kind of worried…"

Sarah lifted her gaze to watch Chuck closely, a small smile on her face. Either he was too worried to take Devon's bait and get all huffy, or he was immune to the older man's jabbing suddenly. Either way, the legitimate worry and tiredness in him made her want to wrap him in a warm blanket and bring him tea or coffee or something.

"Why?" Devon asked with a shrug, taking another swig from his bottle. "She's a doctor, Chuck. Emergency's happen, bro. You know when somebody asks 'Is there a doctor in the house?'" He gestured to himself and nodded. "That's our cue."

Sarah could tell Devon was sincerely trying to set Chuck at ease, but if everything she said didn't work, this wouldn't either. "I'm gonna make some coffee," she said, glancing at both of them. "Do you want some?"

"Absolutely," the tall blonde growled excitedly, and she walked away before getting an answer from Chuck. He really didn't have much of a choice. He was going to have to swallow some and maybe she should specifically make decaf for him because he was a little riled up.

But then as she went into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker, she heard Devon just slightly lower his voice. And of course, she was human. Whenever someone lowered their voice like that, it was impossible not to listen that much harder.

"Listen, bro. I know it's been a while since you've…" He paused and Sarah winced for Chuck's sake. She'd never met people so involved in someone else's sex life as these people were. But then Devon finished his thought. "Taken your bike out for a ride, you know?" Oh dear God, seriously? Sarah couldn't help it. Not even sparing Chuck's pride was worth this. She braced her palm on the counter and slowly turned to look at the two men. "But it is time to oil up that rusty chain...hop on that seat, and start pedalin' away, bro." Her jaw dropped a little as she watched. Devon's back was to her but she could see Chuck's face quite clearly, and he looked as if he either wasn't sure if he was having a stroke or if he just _wanted_ to have a stroke. "You never forget how to ride, huh? Now come on… Lock it out."

Did Devon just have no concept of how loud his voice was? Or did he not care that she could probably hear him super clearly? She didn't know but she turned away to pour the coffee. How many years had Chuck lived with this guy? How had he done it? She felt bad the moment she thought it, but then she couldn't help wondering if that was why it'd been a while since Chuck...hadn't ridden his bike.

She needed to help him. She needed to put this whole conversation to rest and make it so that these people stopped hounding Chuck about it. And anyway, she knew with how much Devon especially couldn't stop obsessing over them not having had sex after a few months of dating, it would start to get really suspicious and explanations would have to be made and…

It was best they just got this out of the way.

Just then she heard the door to the apartment open and Devon's chipper, "Hey! There she is…"

"ELLIE! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!"

She spun and smiled as an extremely tired-looking Ellie Bartowski slowly came into the living room wearing her scrubs, rubbing her back. But then Chuck wrapped her up in a tight, relieved hug, leaving the doctor surprised...confused.

"You're okay. Oh my God, you're fine," Chuck was saying, not even bothering to hide his relief as he squeezed her tight. Ellie's green eyes dropped to give her a prime _what the fuck_ look, awkwardly patting her brother's back. Sarah came over with two cups of coffee, wondering if there was a way to rescue Ellie from this situation.

"You're fine… Of course you're fine, why wouldn't you be fine?" Chuck asked then, stepping back, finally attempting to play it cool. "Why wouldn't she be fine?" He turned to ask Sarah this time and she gave him a wan smile. "What happened?" he asked his sister then.

"We tried everything," she said, and she really looked exhausted, even a little upset. Devon draped his arm over her and squeezed her shoulder. "Nothing worked. I think he was...poisoned…? Or maybe had an allergic reaction to something…? I'm-I'm going to bed, though. Uh, good night. G'night, Sarah." She seemed to only have the energy to smile a little at their guest before she rushed out of the room.

"Good night," Sarah called after her, watching her go for a second as Devon said his goodnights and quickly followed. She wondered if there was some damage control he'd have to do there. She'd lost a patient. And for someone with as big a heart as Ellie's, she wondered if it ever got easier.

"Sleep tight!" Devon said, pointing back at them and winking. _GOD._

But once they were alone, Chuck spun to face her, clenching his jaw. "I'm getting way too comfortable lying and sneaking around all this spy stuff," he rushed out. "I'm starting to feel like _that_ is my real life."

Sarah sighed and looked away. "It-It's to be expected, I guess. I mean, it happens with this sort of...situation. It's, um…" An idea struck her and she felt kind of good about it. "It's an existential spy crisis...of sorts." Now that it had come out of her mouth, though, it sounded...really bad.

"It used to be all compartmentalized, you know? Chuck World. Spy World. Two separate worlds. That-That I could keep apart. One here...one over here. But when I watched those ambulance doors close and my sister was behind them with that sweaty nuclear spy bad guy, those two worlds—my worlds collided, Sarah." He surprised her by raising his voice then. "I put Ellie's life in danger! That was me! I did that!"

She made her own voice firm, her face serious. "No, Chuck, that guy was sick with or without the Intersect in your head. And-and Spy World or no, Ellie helped that guy because that is what she is trained. to. do." She gave him a long look and waited for him to respond. And she realized something she hadn't realized until he'd spelled it out for her. Chuck wasn't like her or Casey, or Bryce, or any of the other spies she'd met or worked with in the last decade; he had a family, a sister he loved, a sister he lived with who was right there next to him while he went through all of this. And that meant he had someone in the line of fire. All this time, she hadn't really put that into perspective.

Until tonight, she thought maybe Chuck hadn't really put it into perspective either. For the past hour or so, she'd been frustrated with him, trying to get him to chill the fuck out, but he'd been faced with something serious and real. And she hadn't taken him or his fears as seriously as she should have. She was right, Ellie was doing her job and the Intersect hadn't been what put that guy outside of that restaurant with them. But the danger he'd been put in, countless times at this point, had yet to extend to his sister, her boyfriend, Morgan, anyone at the Buy More. Until tonight, he'd seen it happen first hand. Whether it was connected to the Intersect or not.

Sarah didn't quite know what to say, so she just handed him the coffee mug. "Here. And I'm sorry tonight was rough for you. I'm sorry I used that crappy line just now, too. There's no such thing as an existential spy crisis. The truth is, for most of us, there is no life outside of...this. Spying. I-I don't exactly know why. Maybe because it's safe, or maybe because it's easier." She swallowed thickly and shrugged. "But you're different. And I'm...sorry."

He smiled slowly, a little crookedly, and his eyes got all soft suddenly. And she had to glance away from them. "Hey, s'okay. This is insane for all of us. We're all, uh, learning. Dealing with something super different." She scoffed and raised her eyebrows. "It's okay, Sarah. I'm just glad you were here. I would've gone to the hospital and kicked the door in if you weren't here keeping my head on straight."

She shrugged. "It's what I do."

"I know," he teased, widening his eyes.

Smirking, she shook her head. And then she sobered significantly. Because the other situation was there, like a weight on her shoulders. And they needed to just get this over with so that he didn't have to suffer anymore horrible conversations about bikes and oiling gears and pedaling ever fucking again.

"There's...something else I have to talk to you about," she said, looking down at his hands, the way they cupped the mug, so large his fingers covered the whole thing practically. God, she didn't want to have to do this. Damn it…

He swallowed hard. "What's that?"

As he brought his mug up to sip the coffee, she inwardly winced, but kept her face unmoved, serious...and above all, business-like. "I'm a little worried about our cover," she admitted, slowly meeting his gaze again.

And as he pulled some coffee into his mouth—the timing not occurring to her until after—she said, "I think it's time for us to make love."

The coffee seemed to get stuck in the no man's land between his mouth and his throat and he made a choking sound, finally swallowing as she quickly brought her own mug up to take a long drink of the coffee, turning away a little. She'd let him deal with that one without her looking right at him while he did it. She wasn't sure she wanted to see the myriad of faces she could imagine him making.

He let out a raspy cough, and his strangled voice squeaked out, "Tha's...hot coffee," with another little cough. "S'hot. So hot. The coffee. The coffee is...hot. Nothing else. Nothing else—I'm not referring to anything else. But. The coffee. Did you—You use the, um, scorching setting on the, um, on the coffee maker or just...Maybe I didn't blow on it." He choked again. "I mean, or let it sit. That's—Jesus Christ. Anyway."

As he scratched behind his ear, she took another sip of her coffee. "It's just getting...to the point where they're going to keep pointing it out and asking."

"Mmm...hm. Mmhm. Mhm." He nodded, gulping, not looking at her.

"I mean, do you want to have to come up with a reason why we're...not…"

"Nope."

"...having sex?"

"Oh God, no. Wow." He took a long drink of the coffee. "And that's still actually really hot. So…"

"Are-Are you okay? I know I...really, um...sprung this on you."

"Really? I mean, the vocabulary, Sarah. Are you doing this on purpose?"

"W-What? No. God." She gave him a look that clearly meant _shut up_. "I'm doing this for you."

"Thanks."

"Stop. Seriously, Chuck. We've been dating for longer than a month, almost two now. It's the twenty-first century. You're not a priest and I'm definitely not a nun."

"What?"

He was getting her tongue-tied now and she was getting pissed about it. "We're just...We're gonna figure it out but we need to make it obvious and then everyone will leave it alone. Okay? And you can stop hearing about bike riding and...pedaling."

Chuck winced. "I'm so sorry you heard that. I don't know what the fuck was happening there."

"It's okay, but…" She shrugged, as if there was really nothing she could do about this.

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah, um...right. Right. So we, um…"

"We can discuss details tomorrow. Okay?"

And as he nodded, she thought about the countless ways that conversation could have gone so much better. And how much easier it would've gone with literally anybody else.

* * *

 **A/N:** David is lucky I put up with the Michael Bolton stuff. And I'm lucky he puts up with literally all of my shit. Including my Awesome-isms. It's a match made in Heaven. Hehehehe. - SC

Leave us review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N:** Have I mentioned…. _ISH_? Also SC is right, it is a match made in heaven, I've never had more fun writing. (She loooooooves Michael Bolton, don't let her tell you differently)

Bolton makes me want to punch a window. Don't let DC tell you differently. - SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck or its characters.

* * *

Sarah walked into Casey's apartment for the hastily called meeting. "When this is over we need to talk about a cover problem," Sarah said. Casey raised an eyebrow. "It's not bad, and we can fix it, but I told Chuck we need to make love."

Casey studied her a minute. "I'll kill the feed tonight," he said softly. Beckman popped up and it was all Sarah could do to school her features into the Agent Walker mask.

"Team," she said in greeting. Sarah noticed Graham wasn't there and chalked it up as he had other things to do. "Chuck was correct in identifying Mason Whitney; subject had nuclear intel. However, Bartowski incorrectly perceived Whitney as a threat."

Sarah's mind raced. Beckman had called him Chuck, and there was nuclear intelligence involved. Where was Graham? "Chuck's not wrong very often," she replied automatically. It was a true statement but she felt more at ease defending him in front of Beckman than she did in front of Graham.

"But he's annoying all the time," Casey muttered. Sarah looked up at Casey. His face didn't match his tone.

"It was probably Chuck freaking out and jumping to conclusions once his sister got involved," Sarah added.

"Hmm, interestin. Let's keep Mr. Bartowski's emotions in mind when he flashes." Casey and Sarah shared a look. "Whitney was a programmer for a top-secret project, code name: sanctuary. When Whitney disappeared, so did the sanctuary data embedded on a computer chip," Beckman explained.

"Wait," Sarah said, putting all the pieces together out loud. "So whoever has the chip essentially has a skeleton key to access our nuclear facilities?"

"Precisely, Agent Walker. In the wrong hands, this is potentially catastrophic." Sarah and Casey exchanged a look. This just became something big. Beckman began to give out their assignments. "Casey, bring Chuck with you to the morgue. Maybe there's a clue only he can see to ascertain Whitney's true cause of death. Agent Walker, search the body for the missing codes. Maybe there's a chance he still has them on him. Good luck, you two. The world is counting on you." The feed cut.

"Picked a good time, Walker. If the world ends because we don't find this guy, tonight won't be an issue."

"Casey..." Sarah began.

"Relax," Casey said. "I know what you're talking about. I've heard Ellie and Devon talking about it." He looked away, grunted and rolled his eyes all at the same time. "They are beginning to wonder."

Sarah looked away, frustrated. "Any other asset in this situation, we'd just have them come to a secure facility a couple of nights a week and that would solve the problem." She looked back to Casey. "Last night after dinner Ellie and Awesome were making out like hormonal high schoolers and Chuck and I stood there like awkward middle schoolers. Any other asset would have jumped at the opportunity."

"Chuck's not an asset," Casey said softly. Sarah looked at him. "You know it, I know it…" He paused. "I'm not saying this to blow smoke up your ass, but I think Beckman knows it."

"I don't disagree with you." Casey grinned. "What?"

"I was just picturing the Intersect literally blowing out of his head if you kissed him that way," Casey said, laughing.

"Stop," Sarah replied, rolling her eyes.

"He wouldn't be the only one," he said giving her a level look.

"Casey—" she began.

He held up his hands. "Walker...the amount of...professionalism you have brought to this op is commendable." He paused and shook his head. "Bartowski's not a professional at all."

"Don't I know it," she muttered.

"I watched it all happen last night," he admitted with a grin on his face. "Were you trying to kill him, Walker?"

"What? No! I was just stating the obvious." Casey turned his head and looked at her. "How else was I supposed to tell him?"

"Like I said, I can cut the feeds." She glared at him. "Walker, all you had to do was say it's time to make them think we're having sex. You clearly said it's time for us to make love. That's scrubbed by the way."

Sarah stared at him for a minute. "Okay, John, let's say I have the first clue what you're talking about. If you cut the feeds, then what? You know how he'll be."

Casey shrugged. "I know how he is now, can he be that much worse?"

She was knocked on her ass. "Casey are you suggesting…" she couldn't finish that sentence.

"I'm not suggesting anything. You are HANDLING the asset."

"Oh, I get it, you're jealous," Sarah said with a grin, trying desperately to get Casey off what he was suggesting. Trying desperately not think about what he was implying.

"Walker," he growled.

"You wish he was making _you_ the mix tapes. It all makes so much sense now why you get so sullen when he makes me one."

"Walker, I'm warning you."

"Too many lonely nights watching him?" Sarah asked.

His eyes flashed. "How about I hand that assignment off to you, or we switch apartments, huh? How about you watch him in his bedroom at night?"

Sarah swallowed. "Truce," she said, her mouth dry. Casey nodded. "I'll go get Chuck."

"You want the tapes on for Graham, don't you?" Sarah couldn't answer. "And you." Sarah didn't say anything, but the look she gave him was answer enough.

"You change your mind, say bullshit and you'll be clear." Sarah stared at him and then nodded. What in the hell was going on?

}o{

Chuck was at the Nerd Herd desk thinking about the strange conversation he had just had with Morgan about Harry Tang's wife and an anniversary present, when he saw Lou walk in holding a package. "Okay, just give me the verdict, Chuck; I can take it," she said.

Chuck came around the desk, enjoying this. "You sure you want to hear?"

"If you're teasing me, please stop. If you're not teasing me, don't lie to me."

Chuck gave her a tight smile and held up the phone. "Good as new-ish," he said.

She took it from his hand and began to check for herself. "I don't believe you."

"You can learn a lot about a person through their cell phone, by the way," Chuck said, grinning. "For example, I saw that you listed your nana first, under 'A Nana.'"

She gave him a hug, surprising him. "Thank you," she said.

"Hey, yeah," he replied, a little surprised she was this excited.

"You really saved my ass, Chuck."

"Wow, you love your nana and you have the mouth of a trucker. You're a very complicated woman, Lou."

She held out a box to him. "I brought you something, for fixing it."

He took it from her. "Thanks, you didn't have to," he said grinning. He gave it a shake. "Uh, a sandwich?"

"It is, uh, the sandwich. Turkey, Munster, Eggbread, I'm even gonna call it the Chuck Bartowski."

His eyes grew wide. "I can't believe you named a sandwich after me."

She gave him a shy look. "You know, you should come by the shop sometime and taste it fresh."

Chuck was rocked back on his heels. "Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yes, I'd love that. Lou, this is kind of the biggest honor... Sarah!" Chuck saw Sarah walk up. "Guess what Lou just did for me for fixing her phone?" Sarah gave him a look and then looked at Lou.

"What's that, Chuck?" she asked.

"Lou, here, owns a sandwich shop and she's so grateful I fixed her phone she's naming a sandwich after me," Chuck explained.

Sarah gave him a look again and then glanced at Lou. "I'm sorry," Sarah said. Chuck looked over at Lou who also had a strange look on her face.

"OH! Lou, this is Sarah, my girlfriend." Lou's face was unreadable. Sarah glanced at Chuck again and then at Lou. Lou glanced at Chuck and then back to Sarah. Sarah sighed and looked at Chuck. She moved a curl back from his forehead then turned back to Lou.

"Nice to meet you, Lou," Sarah said.

"Nice to meet you, too, Sarah," Lou replied. They both turned to look at Chuck.

"I'm confused. I'm so confused," Chuck said, looking back and forth between the two. "Did I do something wrong?" Chuck looked back and forth again. "I'm not getting the sandwich, am I?" Sarah pressed her lips together and looked at Lou as if to say, "see."

"Is he for real?" Lou asked. Sarah nodded, lips still pressed together. "Sarah, it's just an opinion but he seems like a great guy."

Sarah looked at Chuck who was blushing. She turned back to Lou. "It's not an opinion, it's a fact."

Lou nodded.

"I'm not getting the sandwich, am I?" Chuck asked forlornly, deciding not to be annoyed by the way they were talking over and around him, as if he wasn't standing right there. He felt like he'd maybe misstepped somehow.

Lou gave Sarah another look and then grinned. She turned to Chuck. "Yes, Chuck. You keep that sandwich. You two come by anytime." She started to leave but paused and turned back to Sarah. "Don't hurt him."

"I won't," she replied. Lou nodded and walked away. Sarah looked at Chuck and she shook her head.

"What did I do?" he asked. She just gave him a slow, understanding grin. And it dawned on him. Crap. He winced and nodded. "I wasn't trying to...you know."

"Oh, I know, it's just what you do, but if you didn't do it quite so much, it would make this easier."

"Sorry, I don't mean to screw up the cover," he said softly.

"Come on, there's more to Mason Whitney than we thought," she said, starting to walk off. She stopped, turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I just don't want to see anyone get hurt Chuck. This life…"

"I get it, Sarah. I wouldn't be able to have an honest relationship. I totally get that, but I really wasn't trying to flirt."

"I know, Chuck," she said softly. "I know." She nodded her head. "Come on, we gotta get to the, uh...storage room."

"Storage room?"

}o{

"Okay, this is just a storage room," Chuck said giving Sarah a look. She twisted her lips to the side and kept working on the body. "They just happen to store people in this room, people who are no longer breathing and who are refrigerated," he rambled on. "Come on, Sarah, is this for me making you listen to Right Said Fred last night?" She continued not to make eye contact, the smirk dancing across her face.

"What's wrong, Chuck?" she asked. "Are you too sexy for the morgue?"

"Sarah…" Chuck replied in an exasperated voice. "You're better than that." He was shaking his head, and glanced at the corpse on the table in front of Sarah. He managed not to faint.

"Man up, Bartowski," Casey replied. Chuck got the feeling Casey enjoyed this part of the job. "Got to store 'em somewhere. Better than stacked up on a curb like garbage, right?" Sarah was looking over the corpse making Chuck want to gag a little. "Eyes on the prize," Casey reminded him. "Getting any flashes?"

Chuck glanced over at the corpse. "Good lord, the man is naked!" he yelled covering his eyes.

Casey looked back at the body. "Appears rigor mortis has set in, too," he said, jabbing a needle into the body to remove fluid.

"I hope not, for his sake," Sarah muttered. Both Casey and Chuck stopped, turned slowly, and started at her. She looked from one to the other. "What?! You two CONSTANTLY make innuendos and I do it ONCE and you're offended? Double standards much?"

"Casey does that, not me."

Casey looked at Chuck and grunted. He turned back to Sarah. "Find anything?"

"Nothing yet," she replied, looking over the body. "No codes. Hang on a second. What is this?" She found something behind his right ear. She dug a bit and when she pulled away it looked like a piece of fake skin with a transmitter implanted in it. "Bug," she said to Casey.

He worked on the computer for a minute waiting for the results to come back on the blood pulled from the deceased's body. It made a beeping noise. "The guy was poisoned," Casey replied. He turned back to her as she began to put the bug in a container. "Toxic derivative of pentothal. Initially, the subject becomes uncontrollably truthful. After it accumulates in the occipital lobe, victim suffers from unconsciousness and eventually... death."

What's the timeline on this thing?" Sarah asked as Chuck looked more and more concerned.

"Can't say," Casey replied. "Could be a couple hours. Could be minutes depending on the concentration."

"Am I in any danger?" Chuck asked.

Casey turned to him, trying to keep the smirk off of his face. "Don't know." Sarah looked up at Casey. "But apparently Walker has pretty high standards. Make sure there's no chill in the bedroom tonight." Sarah glared at Casey, as did Chuck. "Oh, you meant from the poison. Just don't touch it and you'll be fine." Sarah left the room first. "Don't skimp on the heat tonight."

"I hate you. I really hate you."

When they got outside, Sarah pulled him aside. "We need to talk, meet me at the Wienerlicious, without Casey."

"Oooo, cover date? Another just me and you mission?" Chuck asked.

She was silent for a second, looking into his eyes as if she were trying to figure out something. "Did you forget? It's about our mission tonight, making love."

Chuck gulped and nodded. "Definitely don't need Casey."

She started to turn when she just couldn't help herself. "He'll be listening you know," and then she turned and got into the car.

Chuck dropped his head straight back. "It's no picnic for me," Casey muttered behind him, making him jump.

Chuck glared at Casey. "Again...I hate you."

}o{

Sarah had just finished scraping charred bits of beef off of the fryers when there was an urgent rapping on the door of the Wienerlicious. She'd been hoping Chuck would arrive early and save her from the menial task, but it was apparently too much to hope for. She was already done with the damn fryer.

She hurried around the counter to go to the door and let him in, and she had every intention of just pretending Scooter wasn't there until his voice intruded her space. "Ah, ah, ah!" he called out as he counted the money in the drawer. "You know the rules, Walker. Not while the green's out of the machine."

Yeah. She knew the rules. He'd written that shit on his list of rules that he presented her with when she first started at this lousy crap job. She rolled her eyes at Chuck as he looked at her through the door, lifted one finger for him to wait, and slowly turned. "Someday, Scooter, I hope you're able to get the stick out of your ass long enough for you to experience life."

"Kind of you. Really," he responded sarcastically.

Gritting her teeth, she unlocked the Wienerlicious door and pushed outside. "Hi. C'mere." She grabbed his hand and walked him over to one of their tables outside. "Sorry. I'd let you come in but, um, Scooter's being a dick."

"Is that his thing? That kind of seems like it's his thing."

"Yep!"

He winced in sympathy for her, which she appreciated.

As she sat across from him and leaned across the table, she noticed he looked like he was in over his head, his eyes a little wide. And as she pretended to rub his hand for the cover, she let her fingers slip over his pulse point on his wrist. His heartrate was elevated. "You okay? Something happen?"

"Um. No. No, but I sort of ran here. And I'm out of shape. Definitely." He gave her an embarrassed look. "Also, I had a lot of stuff I had to catch up on at the desk because I spent most of the day looking at a guy's dead body with you and Casey. That was a lot."

Sarah bit her lip. "Oh. Yeah."

"I mean, that guy was poisoned. And it's got me thinking, like, how easy it is to do that to somebody. Just slip that bug thing onto them and wham, they're done. I mean, not wham. There's a period of abject suffering before death. What if someone does something like that to me?"

"Chuck, we're not going to let something like that happen to you. Okay?" She laid her hand over his again and squeezed. "That's why we're here. We were investigating someone else's death and it had nothing to do with the Intersect. You're fine."

He nodded. "Enough about that, though, you, uh, you said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Right. Yes." She cleared her throat, then scooted her chair closer to the table. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay for tonight's mission. I mean, I want to be sure we're all set."

"Y-Yeah, I—Wait, are we-we calling this a mission?"

"Uh." It was a weird, random question. But she still decided to answer it because it seemed important to him for some reason. "Yes."

"Right, okay." He nodded. "A mission. I am...set. For the mission."

"You seem a little nervous so I want to sort of set you at ease if I can. It's just your family, Morgan, um...Devon…"

"Oh, God..."

"Yeah. But they sort of have a point. I mean, I get that it must look sort of bizarre from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they think we're dating and a lot of time has gone by without us…having...had..."

"Yep," he cut off, scratching the back of his head. "Um, not really their business, though."

"No, it isn't. But it's the sort of thing I guess they can't help but notice. And considering how that personal questions game went last month, um, Morgan is weirdly interested in that part of your life."

"Thank you," he drawled, chuckling. "Thank you for that observation."

She winced and giggled, squeezing his hand again. "Sorry. It's true. We need to protect the cover, though. That's what tonight is. And after it's over, hopefully everyone gets off your back."

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I mean it's...been a while since I've slept with someone. Not-Not like _slept_ with someone, but slept with someone."

Sarah blinked. "What's that mean?"

"Uh, I...don't know." He laughed at himself. "It's actually been a really long time since I've done anything at all, so there's that."

She pulled back a little and clasped her hands together on top of the table. That had been very honest and she wasn't really sure what to do with it so she tried to just pretend he hadn't said it. "Chuck, listen. It's okay. I-I know this is kind of...uncomfortable."

"I'm—No. I'm good. I'm fine. It's fine."

"It's just that we _have_ to do it—" Shit.

"I got it."

"I mean, not _do it_ do it." Shit shit.

"Got it, thanks."

"We just have to make sure we don't blow—"

"I got it I got it."

"—our cover."

"Well this has been a good talk, Sarah, thank you. I feel a lot better." He put his elbows on the table and clutched his head between his hands, fingers tangled in his curls.

It was his damn fault. He'd done this to her. Saying things and reading into the words she was using… This was never a freaking problem before. "Look, it'll be over in the morning, Chuck. And then we're in the clear for a while."

"I swear to God, if you say 'Lie back and think of England', I'm going to go walk in front of one of those speed demon cars that always dart around in the Buy More parking lot."

Sarah cracked up, shaking her head, fighting back a blush. "Let's just make it through the night, huh? I'll show up, let Ellie and Devon see I'm there, let them make their assumptions, and then we just stay in your room. Nothing difficult about it, right?"

She knew how ridiculous that sounded and she inwardly rolled her eyes. Everything about it was difficult. The worst part of it was going to be the two of them locked behind his bedroom door, having to stay there together until morning, both of them knowing that the other couple in the apartment thought they were having sex.

Why did humans do this to each other?

"Uh, yeah. Sounds like a breeze. Should I, should I dress up or anything?"

Sarah straightened up and pulled her chin back, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Dress up? Like a...costume?"

His eyes widened and she realized that no, that wasn't what he meant. Oh God, she needed to get them both out of this situation. Stat. "No, no! No, not—What? Jesus, Sarah, no. Like role play? I'm not—No. I just meant like...formal wear. Should I look nice?"

"No! I'm just sleeping over. This isn't a black tie event."

"I'll just see you later; how's that?"

"That seems like a good idea," she said through a wince.

Chuck pat the table with an awkward, "okay", and got up, walking away from her with a quick wave. She waved back lamely, then pressed her fingers against her mouth and sighed, her eyes flickering shut.

That certainly went well.

So well.

}o{

The rest of the day went by way too quickly. And after she'd left the Wienerlicious, she'd thought about checking with Chuck about the time again, but they'd already said what time, she was sure he knew, and honestly, she just needed to give them both space before this...mission.

A mission she'd spent almost an hour at a lingerie shop preparing for. It wasn't anything she'd seen fit to go through the CIA for, like she had for the soufflé. And a few other things. If Graham saw that bill...Well, it just wasn't necessary for them to be a part of this.

It was her mission. She was a good agent and was more than capable of getting missions done her own way, without guidance. She had it in the bag.

And so she'd bought something for the night that would make it clear she was seducing Chuck. Clear to Chuck's sister and the nosey boyfriend who insisted he was teasing even though he brought it up over and over. And over. _And over._

She was wearing it under her coat now as she sat in her car, staring straight ahead as she turned it off and swallowed thickly. She checked her watch and saw she was seven minutes early. She didn't want to just sit in the car for seven minutes in this damn purpleish lingerie with the see-through slip she'd liked so much when she looked at herself in the mirror wearing it. She felt ridiculous now. So stupid. And the more she sat here, the stupider she felt. She should've just worn some damn jeans and a blouse, for God's sake. Why had she done this to herself? To both of them?

So Agent Walker got out of the car and fixed her coat, tightening the knot keeping it shut and locking her car before clicking along the pavement in her heels, onto the sidewalk, and over to the entrance into the courtyard. Her shoes sounded foolish against the ground, so loud and gaudy. She felt foolish and campy.

And she'd spent extra time on her makeup, painstakingly putting flirty curls in her long blond hair. _Specifically_ flirty curls.

She stopped at the door and composed herself. Then she glanced over her shoulder towards Casey's apartment. He was in there, knowing exactly what was going to happen tonight, probably snickering about it, too. Damn it. He knew as well as she did that it was going to be awkward and uncomfortable...for both of them, but mostly for Chuck probably.

She'd pretended a lot of things with partners before, but this wasn't Chuck's life. And this had to be...a lot. Especially after the talks they'd had and her awareness of his extra feelings he had for her. She wasn't even gonna pretend that wasn't a thing.

Sarah took a deep breath, stole herself, and knocked. And the moment Ellie opened the door and gaped at her, she thought maybe she was coming to a bit of a realization. Maybe the extra trip to the mall to slip into a lingerie shop, the makeup and hair, wasn't just about maintaining a cover, selling the idea that she was a girl showing up to seduce her boyfriend. Maybe she wanted to know how a guy like Chuck would react to said girl—even if she was just a cover girlfriend—dressed in a see-through shift that revealed lacy lingerie underneath. No, it wasn't just the reaction from a guy like Chuck she was interested in; she was interested in how Chuck himself would react.

She felt like a tool now as she smiled a bit shyly at Chuck's sister.

"Hi, Ellie." She gave a little wave. In spite of the coat she wore, a lot of leg was exposed beneath the hem and she tugged it down ineffectively.

"Sarah, hi!" The other woman went in and hugged her tightly. "Hellooooo! Wow, you look like a cabaret dancer," she breathed as she pulled out of the hug, hands still on Sarah's shoulders.

"Wow, I...do?" Cabaret? What the fuck? How did she respond to that?

"Sorry, that's not a bad thing. It's a good thing, I promise. They just have really nice, long legs. I'm really envious of your _legs_."

Sarah gaped. "Oh. Yeah? Well, thanks. Just, uh, a little jogging in the mornings. I guess."

"You're here to see Chuck, though. You're here to see Chuck so I'm gonna just...let you go in there and do that. I mean, not do _that_. But just…" She made her hands into fists and let out a sound Sarah could not decipher for the life of her. "Don't mind me. I'm happy. Take those legs down that hallway to my brother."

The younger woman stared, mouth agape. "Uh...So I take it...Chuck's in his bedroom."

"Yep." Ellie hugged herself with both arms and gave her a closed mouth smile.

"Okay. Um...have a good night. Nice to...see you, Ellie."

"Yep!"

She felt Ellie walking with her, though, as she moved down the hallway, and she waited for the other woman to disappear into her own bedroom before she closed the rest of the distance to Chuck's door. She hoped there was nothing in the water in this apartment complex because if Chuck was also acting weird as hell like this, she'd just have to straight-up leave. Wash her hands of this insanity.

But she heard music coming through the cracked door then, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. It was smooth, silky...the epitome of mood music. _That_ mood. And she inched around the door to look inside of the room, only to find Chuck...not dressed as anything, thank God. Instead he was just in his pajamas.

Not only had he lit candles, he had the mood music and...what in the hell was he doing?

Was it dancing? Or was he...thrusting? Or both? She wasn't even sure if she thought it was cute or not.

Putting her hand on the door, she decided to put him out of his misery sooner rather than later, and make herself known, so she stepped inside and just waited for him to turn towards her. He made little "oooo" sounds, bent his knees to do one last thrust and finally caught sight of her. He straightened up so fast he nearly fell over. "Oh. Oh, hi. Hey." His face went bright red as he smoothed a hand down his shirt. "Y-You're a little...early. Which is fine."

"Uh, Ellie...let me in." She really, really did. And then she did...Sarah didn't know what in the hell his sister did after that. Hallucinogens? She stepped further inside and shut the door behind her. Chuck was just frozen, looking mortified. "Wow, Chuck, the, uh...candles and the music? Pretty good touch."

He cleared his throat and gestured to everything around him. "I—Uh, full disclosure, I had to move a whole lot of comics to make sure I didn't burn the place down." She smirked and he made a face like he regretted saying that. "If this were a, um, real thing, that'd probably be something I shouldn't say. Not really a mood builder, is it?"

She let out an amused huff and crossed her arms at her chest. "Depending on the girl…? But, uh, I can't say either way."

"Right, right. Of course not. 'Cause this isn't...a real thing. But, um, but did the first part—the first part went okay. Ellie saw you and um…" His eyes fastened on her coat, then slowly traversed her long legs down to the heels. He blinked once, then looked away, scratching his temple, turning and pretending to scan through his iPod. "I take it she sort of got an idea about...why you're here."

She wondered if she should go into detail. And then she decided that no...no, she shouldn't. "Uh, pretty sure she figured it out. Yep."

"Oh, good. Good. Super awkward and embarrassing but good. For the cover."

"Right."

"Which is why you're here."

"Yes."

"In my bedroom. Dressed like—Did you-Did you curl your hair? It, uh, it looks really pretty...like that." He swallowed thickly.

"Uh, yeah. It's kind of a special occasion so I thought the flirty curls would be an nice touch."

"Cool! Yeah. Makes sense. I'd totally be into that. I mean, if you were really my girlfriend. What I mean to say, if you were a girl actually coming here to your real boyfriend's bedroom trying to, uh, you know. This is perfect." He gestured to his bed and that somehow made things all the more uncomfortable.

She was supposed to climb into that and sleep now? After he pointed at his bed while hinting at sex? And he'd be sleeping right there next to her. This really wasn't supposed to be so difficult. And she thought it wouldn't be if she were here with literally anyone else.

"Yeah. Got it. Thanks. I thought it was a good idea. Sells the idea that's why I'm here...to your sister and her boyfriend."

"Brilliant."

"And then tomorrow, we're all set."

"Yep!" He changed the song and then clapped his hands together. "I also figured, you know, the music is sort of a way to...Well, I mean, sometimes you can hear through the walls. Not that they'd hear anything or even be listening for…" He made a traumatized face. "I'm just saying, like, the...music sort of covers up...anything. Everything."

"No, that's a good idea." She twisted her lips to the side.

"Okay, hold on. Let's reel it back, here." He let out a frustrated huff and shook his head. "This is fine, right? We're both fine."

"I think so," she said with a nod, shrugging as she crossed her arms.

"Yeah! We're in here now, the door's shut. We can do whatever we want and nobody would know." He thrust his hands out, palms up, and made a _duh_ face. She knew how he'd wanted that to sound—it was perfectly innocent—but she heard it another way. And she cursed her damn brain for it. He was right. They really could do...anything they wanted. Especially if she used that keyword and Casey killed the feed.

That wasn't going to happen. Not just because she wouldn't do that, but she had a feeling that in spite of the crush of sorts he'd developed, he had an intrinsic awareness about this whole situation, about her, about her and him, that sometimes left her unsettled. But right now, she just sort of admired him for it. He wouldn't take this kind of opportunity.

"So...video games again?" she teased.

Chuck wasn't in the right mindset for teasing, she realized, because he shook his head, taking her seriously. "Nah, I think they'd be too loud. They'd hear some guy getting blasted and they'd realize we were gaming instead of...other stuff."

Sarah snorted. "I was mostly joking." He looked embarrassed as he nodded. "But what the hell is this, anyway? A couple of adults, two professionals, and we haven't been able to use the word 'sex' this whole time."

Chuck blanched. Then he let out a nervous chuckle. "You just did." She shrugged in agreement. "And whaddya mean 'two professionals'? You're the pro. I'm not. This whole thing is way outta my wheelhouse, ya know?"

Leaning against his desk with a wince, she tucked some hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I was teasing again. I know this is really uncomfortable, and not something you've ever had to do."

He nodded and crossed to the bed, pulling the sheets down and crawling under them. "It really isn't. But, uh…" He stopped then and cleared his throat. "I was gonna ask—But then I've learned my lesson since the first time I was kind of disrespectful with my questioning. So I'm just gonna... _zzzzip_."

She narrowed her eyes dubiously. "You can't just say that and expect me not to wanna know what you were gonna ask."

Chuck winced. "No, really. It isn't appropriate. And it's kind of...It's just not right, that's all. Really."

"Ask me. I won't get mad."

With a groan, he scratched his shoulder in discomfort. "Fine. I guess I thought for a split second to ask you if this is something you've had to do before." He made like he was bracing himself for her ire.

It did sting just a little bit, but she didn't blame him. He'd stopped himself from asking it and she'd made him anyway. She shook her head. "Not this exactly, no. And definitely not with a guy as trustworthy as you are." Her eyes widened but she caught herself and covered it up with her spy mask. "It wasn't about...sex, though. Just, you know, the usual husband and wife on a mission routine."

"Ah. Gotcha. Yeah, I'm sure this is probably the weirdest thing you've had to do for a mission." He reached over and grabbed a small remote, pointing it at his speakers and turning the music off altogether. It made her smile inwardly. He was sort of cute, she could at least admit it to herself. Going through all that effort to set up music and then turning it off just like that.

"Um. I can't say," she murmured.

"Oh. Sure, you've probably been on a million epic missions and assignments and couldn't remember all of 'em. That makes total sense."

It wasn't that at all, but she didn't much feel like telling Chuck she just really couldn't tell him about past missions and assignments. They were top secret. And she wasn't about to entrust that information with anyone. She didn't want to hurt his feelings tonight. Or really...ever.

"It doesn't matter," he said, stretching out a hand towards her, almost placating. "We're here now anyway, the two of us, having to make the best of this. I mean, or not make the best of it. Though it isn't like we're making the worst of it, either. We're not doing anything at all, more like it. And what the hell am I even saying?"

Sarah giggled. "Maybe it'll just be easier if we get in bed and...fall asleep or something. It's late enough," she said with a shrug.

"That works. Uh, if you want to, you can get changed in the bathroom," he said, lying back against his pillows with a comfortable sigh.

"No, that's okay. I just came wearing the thing I'm sleeping in because changing in the bathroom doesn't really work for the storyline we're trying to sell here." She untied the coat and pulled it off of her shoulders, secretly peeking through her eyelashes at Chuck as he slowly turned his head in curiosity.

The curiosity crumbled as he looked like he'd just swallowed his tongue and pushed himself up to lean on his elbows. "What?! You—I didn't—You said no dressing up."

"This isn't dressing up," she said with a shrug, and maybe she liked the way his gaze took in every last inch of her before darting up to her face extra fast. His pupils almost seemed to quiver as if he was willing them not to stray back to her body that was on near full display for him. "It's for the cover."

"Well, it doesn't cover a thing."

She bit back a smirk. "If I showed up in sweats and put no effort into this thing, their brains wouldn't go to sex the way Ellie's did when I showed up like this. I mean, that didn't sound right, but you get what I mean."

"Y-Yeah, I do. But I'm…"

Chuck didn't seem to know what he was trying to say and the words stopped altogether when she approached the bed to get in with him.

"If Ellie or Awesome were to walk in for whatever reason, this is exactly what a girlfriend would wear to seduce her boyfriend. Especially if it's our first time." She picked up the covers and climbed in.

"Yeah...I-I guess so." He huffed. "But I dunno, I've seen a lot of sexy get-ups and they don't all have so much...uncovered." There was a pause. "I mean, not in real life. In catalogs mostly."

Sarah bit her lip and laid back against the pillows, blinking at the ceiling. She felt a smile threaten. "Look at a lot of those catalogs growin' up, Chuck?"

"Shut up! Not any more than any other healthy, straight teenage boy, okay?" She heard amusement in his tone though, and then he outright chuckled, readjusting his position. It shook the mattress a little beneath her and for some reason, that made her squirm a bit in discomfort, even if this was one of the most comfortable beds she'd ever been in. Her bed at Maison23 felt like a cloud and it was almost...too perfect. Life in the CIA had meant a lot of sleeping on floors, on the ground outside, on rooftops, in planes and cars. Chuck's mattress was nice and sleeped in, not like an untouched cloud, but just...cozy. She sank into it perfectly.

And she supposed thoughts about how comfortable his bed was were better than her previous thoughts about how close his warmth was to her under the covers. Shit, she was thinking about it again now.

"Listen, I'm just being professional. Preparing for anything. I really wanted to make sure we sell this."

"All right, all right," he said, holding his hands up in surrender, and he turned his head to look at her. "I relent. It's good for the cover."

"Anyway, what does it matter? I'm all covered up now and all you can see are my shoulders."

Chuck sat up a bit and looked down at her. "And your face, which, to be honest, is enough. Especially with the, uh, what'd you call 'em? Flirty curls?"

"Shut up," she giggled swatting his shoulder. She didn't realize how much he was setting her at ease by getting into the teasing now that he'd settled into this situation a bit more.

"Which leads me to ask this question…"

"I'd rather you not."

"No, no. Hear me out." He held up a finger. "What exactly constitutes, quote, flirty curls, unquote? Like, my hair is always like this." Chuck picked at one of his curls and gave it a tug. She watched a bit fondly as it spring back against his head. "Are these flirty? Or is there something special about a curl that makes it flirt?"

Sarah laughed, shaking her head, but before she could chastise him for being an idiot, they heard Ellie's raised voice coming from the other bedroom in the apartment.

"—And what's up with the porno shorts? Huh?" she heard Ellie ask. That was...interesting. "I mean _clearly_ Mrs. Heditsian likes to enjoy all the hills and valleys, but really? Really? They leave, like, nothing to the imagination!"

Wow, what was going on over there? She turned and exchanged a look with Chuck. He just looked confused, and maybe a little embarrassed to boot. "I told you the walls were kinda thin sometimes," he murmured.

"And then there's that! 'Awesome.' Everything is so. freaking. AWESOME! Let me tell you something. If everything is _awesome_ and there is no _un_ awesome, then awesome by definition is just MEDIOCRE!"

"She has a point," Sarah whispered, mostly to herself, but she had a feeling Chuck heard.

"What the hell is going on?" Chuck asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"And when was the last time you did something nice for me? Just bought me something for no reason just because it's a Monday?!"

As she heard Devon tell Ellie to calm down, she winced and turned to prop herself up on her elbows. "Hey, well...the good news about this not being real is, um, no conversations like that, right?" She bared her teeth in a bit of a wince.

"Mm." He plopped back down and stared at his ceiling, a bit of melancholy coming across his face. "And it's not looking super...likely...I'm gonna have to worry about having arguments like that with a girlfriend anytime soon. If eeever," he drawled, a tinge of bitterness to the teasing look on his face.

She just watched him for a long moment, and then she pursed her lips. "You okay? Is there anything you wanna talk about?"

He shut his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them, he turned to face her better and folded his arm under his head. She propped her own head up on her hand and looked down at him. "Are there—Are there, like, rules? To this? I-I mean our...thing. The cover."

"What do you mean?"

She was afraid of where this conversation was going. She thought she knew what he meant.

"Well, like, hypothetically speaking...are either of us allowed to see...other people?"

Sarah chewed on her lip. "Um…"

"No. You don't have to answer because I know. I can tell by the look on your face. It'd be hard to pull off something like that anyway, since it could potentially undermine our cover as boyfriend/girlfriend." He sighed. "I was just curious I guess."

"Because of that girl Lou?" Sarah sort of hated herself for asking that question. "I mean, you said 'hypothetically', but you're talking about her, aren't you?" She forced herself to smile a little at him.

But he scoffed and shook his head. "Listen, in another life, some other timeline in which I don't have a super computer filled with government secrets crammed into my brain, maybe that might be a possibility. And even under normal circumstances, it's still a maybe. She brought me a sandwich but, like, in no way, shape, or form was that thing a done deal. I've learned that the hard way too many times."

Sarah made a face. "You really don't get women if you think she wasn't into you."

"I mean, I'm not denying that." He chuckled. She just stared at him for a while, then, until he squirmed a bit under her penetrating gaze. "Look, I asked that question just out of curiosity, not because I'm thinking about...that. With her, I mean."

"This isn't exactly the easiest situation you're in, Chuck. It's unfair and shitty. You're not immune to...thinking about things like this. I get it." She winced. "It isn't exactly viable...just yet. But you can't just shut that part of yourself off." She knew that firsthand, a lot more often lately. Like...maybe right now. For instance.

He sighed and pushed himself up onto his elbow so that he was face to face with her. In fact, his sudden movement brought his face way too close to hers, but she was willing herself not to let it bother her. "No, Sarah. I mean it. Lou the Sandwich Girl is not...She's just not. Because I need to start realizing that while maybe—someday—I'll get my life back to what it was before, you know, with some semblance of normalcy, well, I just don't think I can act like any of this is normal. I can't act like my life is the way it was before. Because it isn't. It can't be. Not with the Intersect, and you, Casey, Graham and Beckman. Everything else. I need to try to come to terms with that. And that means that...well, thinking a girl is kinda cute can't be something that I pursue. Even if I wanted to. It'd be unfair on every level."

She couldn't help asking. "Even if you wanted to?"

"You read that right. I don't want to." He shook his head. No, she hadn't really read him right at all. Because she thought that maybe...he might want to at least try to go on a date with Lou. He'd seemed at least somewhat interested. There'd been something there between the two of them when she'd walked up the other day.

"Because of the Intersect…" she guessed.

"I dunno. Maybe!" He thrust a hand out. "Bryce sent me the Intersect and it dragged me into this new life of danger and tiptoeing and lies. I didn't get a choice in the matter. He put a target on my back, Sarah. And I like Lou. She seems nice. She deserves better than having a target on her back. And anybody connected with me gets one of those fucking targets on their backs. I'm not dragging anyone into this who isn't already in. Awesome, Morgan...Ellie—they're in without knowing it. Because they're the people I love. And it just feels wrong to pull someone else in when there's, what, a hint of minor flirtation there? I just can't do that."

Sarah sank a bit more into the mattress, or maybe she was melting without realizing that was what it was. But not for the first time, she found herself wondering how someone like this could be real. "Those are superhero levels of altruism there, Chuck."

He chuckled and grinned at her. "You really know what to say to a guy. And nah. It's not really altruism. If I'm bein' honest. Like I said, my life isn't normal and I can't pretend it is. Lou seems really nice, chill...normal. When I'm surrounded by CIA and NSA crap, getting shot at and thrown off of balconies, in car chases...the idea of sitting down and eating a sandwich with a nice, pretty girl seems like Heaven." She was smiling at him in spite of herself. "But I can't have that right now. And what's more, there's not enough there for me to go through all this trouble—endangering the cover that's potentially protecting me from terrorists or assassins or whatever, sneaking around, lying to yet another person, disappearing and reappearing because the government needs the Intersect. It's so much work and I just...don't like her _that much_. Sounds mean," he said, wincing, "I don't want it to sound mean. I don't mean it that way. It's just the truth. I don't like her enough for all this. And I'd rather stop that whole thing before it has the potential to begin. She thinks I'm dating a beautiful girl I'm head over heels for...and I'm gonna let her keep thinking that. She can make her sandwiches and date some other dude who doesn't have the Intersect in his brain. She deserves better than...this mess." He shrugged. "Everybody deserves better than this mess."

Sarah smiled quietly at his breathy laugh, the way he plopped back down onto the pillows, his arms folded under his head. And then she realized Casey had been listening to this whole thing. "Bullshit," she said. And she waited a few moments to give the NSA agent time to kill the feed. Chuck gave her a weird look and she widened her eyes a bit. "Um, I mean...bullshit that you have to...make a decision like that. Normal people get to go on dates with someone they've just flirted with a little. You know...just to see what's there, if there can be something there."

"Oh. Yeah. True. That's just not what my life is right now. And I'm not gonna say it's okay, because it isn't. But I'm...surviving. I just think it's best that I keep my numbers of people who I'm close to at...well...this. What it is now. Ellie, Awesome, Morgan, you and Casey." She blinked at the way he'd just included her and Casey. "The people I love could get hurt, so I'm not adding anybody else. Not even someone I could flirt with over a sub when things in this Spy World are gettin' too...overwhelming."

Sarah nodded. "Well, for the record, I think you're doing the right thing. For her at the very least. I probably shouldn't tell you all of this, but if by chance my superiors hadn't decided to make me your cover girlfriend and you were free to date, before you go out on a date with anyone, said prospective date would have to endure a rigorous vetting process to determine her motivation."

He spun to regard her, a bit of an offended look on his face. "Wouldn't her motivation be that she's attracted to me?"

"Yeah, of course," she said, grinning a little at how cute that just was. "Ideally. But you also have to remember how important you are. The intelligence you have in your brain is incredibly precious to the safety and future of this country—maybe even the world. Anyone who gets...close to you...well, we have to handle that situation with great care."

Chuck huffed in frustration and looked upset again. "Man, that sucks! I mean, I guess it doesn't matter now since you're my girlfriend—cover girlfriend. But how freaking shitty."

"I'm not disagreeing."

"I mean, is this how you top secret agents feel?" She wasn't prepared for him to ask that, and she found herself gaping a little at him. But without looking at her, without making her search for some way to answer that, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. "You don't have to answer that. Sorry. It's none of my business. It just flew outta my mouth 'cause I'm frustrated."

He climbed out from under the covers and let go of her, sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to her. "It's like I said, I need to just figure out a way to come to terms with my life not being normal for the time being, stop reaching for normal where I can get it, just...go through the motions. The federal government telling me what to do motions."

Sarah crawled up to her knees and followed him to the edge of the bed, unfolding her legs and plopping down next to him. "You've got me and Casey still. Especially me. I don't think Casey would wear something like this for you."

That made him snort. "I've already got a shit ton of disturbing images in my head from the Intersect. Didja hafta add one more? I mean that's the worst one yet."

She laughed, and suddenly the door burst open behind them.

"I have known him since the day he was born _obviously_ ," Ellie blurted, just walking right on in and going straight for the bed. Devon looked incredibly apologetic and, frankly, confused as he followed her in, almost as if to try to pull her back out again.

Sarah turned and gave Chuck a look as Ellie crawled up right between them and draped her arms over both of their shoulders. "When people would ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would always say the same thing. 'A big boy.' HOW CUTE IS THAT?!"

Admittedly, it was really freaking cute, and in spite of how crazy his sister was being, Sarah couldn't help sending a significant look in Chuck's direction.

"Ellie, you're killing me here," Chuck sang through his teeth, still trying to play up the cover. Or maybe he was legitimately embarrassed.

"And now he is a big boy," Ellie continued as though he hadn't said anything. She even reached up to grab onto his cheek, pinching it hard. He made a face and let out an affronted, "ow!", rubbing his cheek. "And I can tell that he is because he is with a big girl!" She turned to Sarah. "A big mature girl with great legs that belong at a cabaret and not some Wiener shop."

Chuck's jaw fell open and all Sarah could really do was blink at him.

"Sorry, guys. Don't mean to muck up your mojo. Tried to stop her," Devon said, coming closer to the bed, concern in his face now.

"Is she drunk?" Chuck asked. Sarah glanced over her shoulder to see Devon shrug in confusion.

Then Ellie spun on Chuck and narrowed her eyes. For a moment, she wondered if she should do something to protect him. She wasn't sure what in the hell his sister had going on. "Chuck, you need a haircut. It's starting to make funny animal shapes."

Chuck frowned, looking a little offended at that.

Devon stepped in. "Let's go, babe. These two need their privacy, huh?"

But Ellie shrugged her boyfriend's grip off of her and he stood up, wincing, not really knowing what to do in this situation apparently. He wasn't alone. "When you were seven, I told you that a burglar stole the money from your piggy bank. That was a lie. It was me. At the time, I felt it was very important for me to have a New Kids fanny pack."

Chuck furrowed his brow and stared straight ahead. But the rapidity at which she was talking now made Sarah think something was very wrong...Ellie couldn't just be drunk. She'd witnessed tipsy Ellie Bartowski at least once and it was nothing like this.

"Ellie, are you okay?" she asked, and the woman spun and looked at her with that narrowed-eyed look, as if she really wasn't paying attention. Her eyes didn't look right. The pupils were dilated. Oh God… "Have you done anything...out of the ordinary?"

Ellie looked to be concentrating for a moment, thinking about it. But then she sucked in a bit of air through her lips and narrowed her eyes again. "Words taste like peaches."

"Okaaaay!" Devon belted. "We're gonna go now and let you kids get back to doin' whatever it is you're doin'!" He grabbed Ellie by her arms and pulled her away from them, helping her climb off the bed and stand next to him. "Have fun, all right?"

Sarah had a terrible feeling as they left the room, and she could tell Chuck was concerned, too. She climbed to her feet and followed the couple down the hallway as the doorbell sounded. What in the hell was going on? And who was that?

She didn't bring a weapon with her, it was in her coat in Chuck's bedroom. Shit…

Devon made Ellie sit on the couch and he went to the door, opening it. Casey was there, holding a carton of milk. "Hey, sorry to bother you folks. Can you spare some milk? All out," he rushed, shaking the empty carton back and forth.

"Moo juice, comin' right up!" Devon said, pointing and leaving the door open for Casey to come in. He went to the kitchen as Casey stepped inside.

"Casey, what are you doin' here?" Chuck hissed.

"Getting some cross-talk," the NSA agent muttered, and she saw he'd inserted a bug finder in the milk carton he'd brought with him. He followed the blip in his feed further into the room as what he said dawned on her. "Heard Ellie acting weird and I changed channels to her room." He gave Sarah a look that she knew he had gotten the word.

"Why?" she snapped. "What from?"

Who in the hell had bugs in this place besides what they'd put here themselves?

Casey stopped in front of Ellie and looked up at her with wide eyes. She just snorted at him and shook her head. "Those pajamas make you look like Dennis the Menace's father."

She let out a woozy chuckle, and just like that, she went limp, falling to the side and landing facedown into the couch. Casey moved the carton closer to Ellie and it beeped faster. There was a bug...on Ellie. This was worse than anything...

"Ellie." Chuck dove to his knees next to her and grabbed her hand, shaking her a little. "Ellie, Ellie! Hey, El…"

Casey reached out and carefully pushed the hair from her neck. Sarah saw the slight discoloration there… She knew. Her heart was pounding, and she felt herself break out into a cold sweat as she carefully reached down and pulled the bug out from behind Ellie's ear.

"Welp! She was poisoned," Casey said, matter-of-factly.

Sarah immediately turned to look down at Chuck. His face went pale, terror in his eyes. And her heart seized in her chest.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review! Next chapter soon!

-SC and DC


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** **_ISH_** …..I apologize for nothing, although this may be where SC really starts to regret this team-up.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making any money.

* * *

Chuck watched Devon through the hospital room window as he sat with Ellie who lay in the hospital bed. They were so good together, he thought. Great even. They didn't deserve this. They deserved little Ellies and Awesomes running around. He was going to fix this. He was going to save his sister and give them both the life they deserved. He had no idea how, but he was going to make it happen.

"Pulled the video surveillance," Chuck heard Casey say behind him. "Man posing as an officer exposed your sister to the poison."

"Why would anyone want to hurt Ellie?" he asked, still watching Devon and Ellie and seeing the little Awesomes disappear in front of his eyes. "She doesn't know anything about nuclear codes. She doesn't even want us to own a microwave." He was becoming more frustrated by the minute.

"That's good news. Means the person who poisoned her is still out there looking for the intel chip," Casey tried to reason with Chuck.

"No, no, no, no," he said spinning around. He was getting mad. That was his SISTER. He had lost his mom and dad. He had lost Stanford, and Jill had cheated on him, and two people had been there for him through everything, Ellie and Morgan. Ellie who had helped him in every way possible over the years. Ellie who was the definition of family. "There is no good news. Okay, you just told me that my sister was poisoned by the same stuff as a dead guy."

"Chuck, our medical teams are trying to identify the poisoning agent to create an antidote for Ellie," Sarah said, stepping in front of Casey. God bless her, he knew what she was doing. She was trying to calm him, again. This was his worst fear last night, and now it was coming true.

"There's no time!" he yelled. Not at her. Just in general. He didn't want to yell at her, but right now he was losing control of his emotions, his life… "If it's the same poison as the dead guy, that means Ellie's only got a few hours left." He saw her eyes slip over and look at Ellie. He knew she was on his side but she wasn't the final say. He'd need both of them on the same page to get Beckman and Graham to agree, and if they didn't… "Look, this is easy. All we've got to do is find the codes, and we get get the bad guy to trade us for the antidote. Okay? We do this kind of thing in our sleep."

"Even if we knew where the codes were, that's not a practical plan. Can't risk the bad guy endangering millions of lives for the one," Casey said.

Chuck stared at him. "Okay, Spock, I get it, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one." Casey and Sarah both gave him a look. "This is my sister we're talking about, all right? We can't just sit around and watch her die. The needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many."

"Is he talking nerd?" Casey asked Sarah, not quietly, right where Chuck could hear him. Sarah glared at Casey. He turned away from them to look back to his sister. He was gonna save her with or without them.

"Okay, the only clue we have so far is the bug that we found on Ellie," Sarah said, trying to be the voice of reason, holding out the box in front of her. Bless her, she was trying to find a compromise. Chuck looked at it.

"Soundproof box," Casey said. "Don't want the bad guy knowing we're onto him." Sarah was watching Casey, holding out the box, not paying attention. Was she giving him an opportunity? If she was… "We've got a team working on reversing the tracking signal."

Chuck lunged to grab the box from Sarah's limp grip and moved out of their reach.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Casey yelled trying to grab him. "No!"

Chuck stopped and lifted the lid, making both of them stop. His eyes locked with Sarah. She had let him grab that box. He could see it in her eyes. "Found the codes," he said, meeting Casey's glare with a look of certainty. "Can't believe where Mason Whitney hid them. I'm going to keep them on the lady doctor until we can move them safely." He carefully put the lid on the box right as Casey yanked it out of his hand.

"Now the bad guy's going to come to us. Not bad, Bartowski," Casey growled. Chuck lifted his eyebrows confidently. He and Sarah locked eyes. She had done it on purpose. "Do that ever again and I'll kill you."

}o{

He sat at Ellie's bedside. Devon told him it wasn't looking good and that Chuck might want to spend a little time with her, and then he walked away, tears in his eyes. Chuck took his place next to her and tried not to have negative thoughts. She was going to be okay. He was making sure. And the best intelligence agents in the world were helping him. Right?

"I'm going to fix this, Ellie, I swear. Look, I know that you think I'm just Chuck, your screw-up little brother. But there's a lot about me you don't know." The monitor beeped. "See, I'm, I'm... I'm also Chuck, the guy with all these...important government secrets in my brain. I can make this better. I will make this better." The beep came again and Chuck checked it. He was getting worried. Hell, he was past worried. He was beginning to think he was going to lose her. "Ellie, everything is so different now. I used to be able to come you, and ask your advice about anything. And now, my whole life is, like, a lie." The monitor beeped again and he let out a huff of emotion.

Devon walked in. "Went downstairs to get Ellie's sweater from her locker," Devon said somberly.

"Her lucky sweater. She could use it. Thanks, Devon." Devon squeezed his shoulder and left. Chuck laid it over her and as he did he felt his fingers skim over something hard in one of its pockets. He pulled it out and saw it was a necklace of some sort. As he turned it over, he noticed a chip. The flash was sudden, the images racing through his mind, and stopping on "Sanctuary". He shook himself once it was over, jumped to his feet, and hurried to find Casey and Sarah.

Chuck raced through the hospital towards the room where Casey and Sarah were supposedly setting up their trap, bursting into the room. "I found them! I found them!" Chuck yelled, not able to stop himself from crashing into a cart. "I found them. I got the codes. The codes are on the necklace." What was that weird odor? Why did he feel weird? Why was Sarah's gun in her hand?

"The vial," he heard a strange voice say in a hushed serious tone. Oh, shit. What had he done? The little guy he hadn't noticed until right then grabbed the necklace from Chuck and took off. Was that the poison? Were all of them poisoned?

Casey and Sarah rushed after the guy and he followed behind. They raced through the corridors after him and Chuck skidded to a halt as he saw Casey grab a crutch from a patient and throw it through the air like it was a javelin, hitting the guy in the back, making the antidote fly out of his hand.

They were screwed.

But then Sarah dove like the badass warrior she was and saved the antidote from crashing to the floor. The dude ran and Casey started to go after him.

"Wait!" Sarah yelled. "Casey, wait. What about Chuck?"

Casey pulled up short and spun to face them both.

"Here," Sarah said, thrusting the vial toward Chuck.

"No, no, it's for Ellie."

"I'm sorry. There's no debate. It has to be you. You're the intersect," Sarah said.

"I won't take it knowing that Ellie will die without it, that both of you have been poisoned, too," Chuck retorted.

"You're a good person, Chuck, and I respect that, but I got a job to do. So take it before I shove it down your throat," Casey said.

"Thank you, Casey," Chuck said sincerely.

"It's the truth."

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll do it," Chuck relented, taking it from Sarah.

"Thank you," Sarah said. Chuck saw relief on her face.

"I'll pretend to agree to take it, then I'll run like hell to my sister's room and make her take it. Why did I just say that out loud?"

"It's the poison," Sarah replied like she was discussing the weather. "It makes you tell the truth."

"You do that, I'll give chase, put a gun to your head, and threaten to pull the trigger if you don't take it," Casey said, pointing the gun at Chuck.

"Would you really shoot me?" Chuck asked.

"No," Casey admitted.

"Yeah, don't waste the bullet. We're already dead. I'm saving my sister." Chuck turn and ran to his sister's room, never looking back. He crashed into her room and slid to a halt at her bedside, not even thinking twice about what he was doing. This wasn't her fault. She wasn't a part of this. She needed this more than anyone else did.

As he administered the drug, he looked up and saw Casey and Sarah in the window. He was assailed with guilt as he gazed at them. He didn't want them to die, but Ellie deserved to have a good life, a long life, with lots of little Ellies and Awesomes.

Maybe they'd name one Chuck.

}o{

Sarah watched him in the room with Devon and Ellie. He'd asked a question that night, and for some reason she was stuck on it. He'd asked her what constituted flirty curls and she'd thought about his. She stared at his unkempt, apparently flirty curls as he stared down at the sister whose life he was currently saving, and she had one regret that popped into her mind, randomly, out of the blue; for all the flirting they'd done, the cover dates, the fake sleepovers, she'd never known what it felt like to have her fingers in them. She regretted that. She regretted that she wouldn't know what it was like to be with a man physically and have that there for her to grip onto—she inwardly shook herself and realized the poison was starting to get a hold of her. She needed to fight it, lest any of these thoughts made their way out into the open. And maybe she should be ashamed of her mind going there, unchecked, but what did anybody else know about it if she didn't say it out loud?

Anyway, none of that mattered. They were going to die.

But she didn't really believe that, did she? If she did believe it, these last hours of her life would probably be when she'd stop resisting the truth part of this poison currently slithering through her system, slowly shutting it down. And maybe Chuck would know that she repressed most of what she felt when he was around, when he smiled at her or laughed at something she said. But she wouldn't say anything, she'd keep resisting, she'd keep the truth inside as best she could. Because something had to work. Eventually. They'd figure this out.

And maybe if they didn't...maybe she'd spent her last moments wrapping her arms around him and letting herself finally discover what it felt like to be held by him, no covers or pretending. Maybe she could let herself do that.

She turned away from the sight and dejectedly slid down against the wall to sit beside Casey.

"You should tell him." Sarah turned to look at Casey, confused. He was playing with a wheelchair wheel, seemingly in a far off place. "He deserves to know."

She felt the pull of the serum, working at her tongue, her chest full of a sensation she'd tried really hard to repress for two months now. She held back but couldn't resist giving Casey a long look. He knew, didn't he? He didn't have a full grasp of it, though. Nobody did. She didn't think she even did. He just knew there was something. He knew she was compromised. And he'd just stood there letting it continue, not dragging her for filth to their superiors.

"He's a good kid," Casey said shrugging. "It's all pretty tough."

"Is it possible we're both...sort of compromised?" Sarah asked quietly, shaking her head. She cleared her throat then, looking down at her lap when he made a soft snorting sound that confirmed it. "We don't have a lot of time, you know. Any ideas?"

"Nope," Casey said, spinning the wheel. "Just praying the scientists figure out a cure."

"Do you think they will?" Sarah asked.

"Nope, and that's why you should tell him," Casey replied. She really wished he'd stop that.

That was when Chuck left the room to give Devon and Ellie some time alone, quietly shutting the door behind him. He went around the corner and slid down the wall to sit like them, their shoulders just barely touching, she noticed acutely. She didn't move an inch She reached over and took his left hand in hers. This much, she'd allow herself to do. They were maybe, probably—hell, most likely—going to die.

She heard him speak, his voice sounding...weird. "You know, if I had a blog this would be a really big day for me. Do my laundry? Check. Save my sister's life? Check. Save my own life? Final entry."

She turned to send a longing glance at him around the corner, taking in his peripheral. "I am so sorry about all of this," she said, because she was. That was the honest to God truth and she wanted to let that one out. "You deserve better."

"That's okay," he breathed, utmost understanding in his breathy voice. "That's okay. It's not ideal, but I've lived a pretty good life, you know? I mean, how many guys can say they've landed a helicopter and saved the lives of innocent people?" Chuck asked.

"Courageous and honorable members of the United States Military," she heard Casey say. She noticed their fingers idly playing with each other as they held hands. Neither looking, neither mentioning it. It was the perfect symbolism for them. Together, but they couldn't acknowledge it.

"And hey, and the silver lining is now I don't have to work out my five-year plan again. Streamlined that down to about five hours." She couldn't let him go down like this. Hadn't she made an oath? Not just to him, but to herself as well? There had to be something...

What was he staring at? Did she have something in her nose? He ran past her and picked something up off the floor. He stared at it, and then she saw his eyelids flutter, his jaw fall open… He'd flashed. She was on her feet immediately, a hand on his shoulder, ready to hold him up if he needed her to. To the end, she supposed. She'd be next to him to the end. ...And that wasn't so bad, was it? She'd always thought she'd have a lot worse.

"Bad guy's name is Riordan Payne. Used to be an Olympic gymnast, blew out his knee. Now he sells hard-to-find items, like nuclear codes, to hard-to-find people. Lots of people want to spend lots of cash on these codes, but they're not going to get the chance."

"Oh... Why not?" Casey asked, frowning.

"Because this thing's going to lead us right to him," Chuck said, confidence spilling through him in a way that made her decide to take a step back. Just in case her brain connected with her mouth in a way that might overpower her resistance.

He took off and she ran after him. They got inside of the Nerd Herder and Chuck immediately took her hand again. She let it happen, and she didn't pull away, either. She just kept them clasped together down by the gear shift. She thought Casey was probably too distracted by the poison coursing through him, the truths sprinting around in his head, to even notice. He was talking to his gun about all the regrets he had of not shooting people.

"We're gonna be okay," Chuck said to her and when she looked at him, he was looking away, out the window.

"How can you know that?" she asked, allowing herself one moment of candidness.

"Because I've got you," he said. "And Casey," he added. The unending confidence he had in her, and in Casey, perhaps the both of them together, seemed almost unfair in that moment. When she was trying so hard to resist all of the urges the poison was doing its best to bring out of her.

Luckily they pulled up to their destination before she could thinking too hard about those urges. They got out and ran up to the door. As she took her lock pick out, she saw Casey preparing to do the same.

"I got it. I got it!" Casey yelled.

" _I_ got it," Sarah insisted, almost offended he would even try.

"Well, who's better at it?" Chuck asked, apparently a pragmatist when he was under the influence of truth serum.

"I am," she found herself saying, raising her hand with a proud tone in her voice. She felt Chuck's eyes on her.

"She is," Casey admitted. He looked pissed then. "Damn truth serum."

She squatted down and picked the door within seconds. They ran up to the elevator banks and she pressed the button to call the elevator. She was going through scenarios in her mind, what they'd do when they caught Riordan. What if he didn't have an antidote? What if they were too late?

"God, you're so pretty."

She spun to look up at him, eyes wide. The way he'd said it, like her beauty flat-out took his breath away, as if he was trying to hold it inside this whole time and it just exploded out of his mouth, his efforts in vain. She just gaped at him.

Her inner Sarah just fainted and swooned. She had been called so many things when she was hit on by men. She had so many what guys considered compliments but weren't. But here, in what could be his last hours was Chuck Bartowski, being Chuck Bartowski just saying the things that ran through his head. And how often did it have to run through his head for him to say it here? How often had he thought it?

She turned away and felt the smile spreading on her face. She tried to bite the inside of her cheek to keep it at bay, at least a little.

And then, in true Chuck fashion, she heard the next words come out of his mouth. "Casey, your jaw was chiseled by Michelangelo himself." Truth serum Chuck was really out-Chucking usual Chuck, and for a moment, she let herself bask in just how pure it was. In how she wanted to be around it all the time. She let herself have that true thought.

"Thank you," Casey replied.

"Oh, you're welcome," Chuck muttered.

They got to Payne's apartment and Sarah knocked on the door. "Yes? Who is it?" They heard him ask.

"The NSA, CIA and me," Chuck shouted out, "who's a little tougher to explain, but…"

Casey had enough, spun out, pulling his gun making her and Chuck take cover. Casey shot the door and gave them both a look. "We all have our skill sets," he said with a shrug. He then kicked the door open and they all barged in.

"Freeze," Sarah said, feeling herself get control of her thoughts fully now. Perhaps it was something about being in the thick of danger that really settled her. "My partner would rather shoot you in the face than let you get away."

"You called me your partner?" she heard Casey ask. She turned to him and smiled. He was. They all were partners, technically, weren't they? This was where she belonged. The irony of it all slammed into her. Her last mission and she had found her tribe. Her group. Her family. She was where she belonged and even her inner voice who said she didn't deserve anyone, ever, couldn't say anything to that.

"Where are the codes, you son of a bitch?" Casey growled pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Where's the antidote?" she asked, torn. She wanted to live, but this truthfulness…

"Actually, I was just about to enjoy a little antidote myself," Payne said. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't offer you some as well?"

Casey clicked the gun chamber. "Careful there. Haven't killed anyone in a while. Getting a little hungry."

Riordan slowly came forward and handed a vial of antidote to each one of them.

They started to take it, when Chuck's voice cut in. "No, no, no! Wait, wait, wait! Don't."

"Did you," Sarah began, but checked herself before asked if he had a flash. "...remember something from the file?"

He glanced at her; he caught it. "No." he replied. "No. I've just read tons of comic books. And the villain always samples it first."

Casey grinned evilly and handed his to Payne. "Good one, Chuck."

"All right," Payne said softly. He grabbed Casey's arm, yanked on it and leapt away from them, doing a few of those tumbles or whatever they called it in gymnastics.

Sarah watched him with an annoyed look on her face. This guy poisoned Chuck's sister. He poisoned Chuck. He had poisoned her partner. And he had poisoned one of the best assassins and marksmen...was that markswomen? She didn't know...on the planet. All she knew is she was tired of all the damn flipping and hopping. She waited for him to land and pulled the trigger, kneecapping him and ending this insanity.

"Very unsportsmanlike," Casey said. Sarah grinned with pride. "I like it." Casey walked over and he and Sarah worked to apprehend the gymnast. When they finished, Casey walked back to the desk, grabbed one of the poisons, and started toward Payne, when he stopped in front of Chuck instead. "You wanna do the honors? Seems like this guy has put you through the most hell."

Chuck stood there considering it, and then he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't." He took a deep breath. "I mean I know, he's gonna tell us where the antidote is, but I can't."

Casey nodded. "Probably best, kid." And then Casey grinned. "Aw, who are we kidding? I wanted to do this and I'm gonna enjoy it." Casey force fed the poison to Payne. Sarah watched Chuck, fighting everything in her. This was her last chance. But there would be another mission, another awkward night, because no one was gonna believe that the two of them had made love when so much had happened tonight. So telling him how she felt, showing him...that would be the worst, for everyone. He deserved better. He really did. She wished _she_ was better.

"The antidote's in the cabinet, bottom right shelf." Payne said, beginning to sing like a canary. "Key is in my pocket. Codes are in my right shoe." Sarah went to get the antidote. She grabbed one for her and Chuck. She needed him to be okay. She gave him his and then brought hers up to her lips.

"No, wait, wait, wait. Wait, wait. Not yet. Not yet," he said.

Inside she was terrified. What was he going to do? "Why? What's the matter?"

"Nothing. It's just that this... This will probably be the last chance that I have to know the truth. I know you're... You're just doing your job here, but sometimes it feels so real, you know? So, tell me. You and me. Us. No one else has to know." He paused. Oh God, he was going to ask if they were real. What was she supposed to do? She could resist. She'd been resisting this whole time. If she chose not to resist, though...well, there was no way she could deny it. Would it bring out feelings that were even deeper than she knew? Would it work like that? Would she be just as surprised as him? It was going to be so bad, but a part of her, a small part of her sang out, with hope. Maybe if he asked, if she answered...really answered...

"Sarah, do you really like Michael Bolton?"

She just stared at him, her eyes searching his face. He could've asked and they both knew it. But he wasn't going to, because she had told him. She had told him that them doing anything would be foolish, and in this moment, she could answer every question he ever had about them. For all he knew, she had no resistance to this stuff. He could know anything he wanted. And he'd instead asked about Michael Bolton. God, was he real? How could he be?

"Well?" he asked, a grin on his face. "Do you?"

"No, Chuck," she replied easily, not really sure if she could, or should, say anything else. "I don't."

"Oh, come on!" he said, a smile on his face. Not any smile, her smile. "It's the hair, isn't it.? It's his hair."

"Take your antidote, Chuck," she said, her eyes dancing.

He winked at her, and took it. She took hers and then wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "Thank you," she said softly.

"What, again with the altruistic thing? Sarah, I saved my own skin."

She grinned and nodded. "Right," she said. His smirk told her all she needed to know. She went off to help Casey, but couldn't help hip bumping him as she walked by.

}o{

"We've received the codes and now our weapons sites are more secure than ever. Congratulations on a job well done," Beckman said. Again, she'd called them on the screen in the home theater room sans Director Graham.

The door opened behind them and Sarah found herself pulling a gun on Harry Tang. "Major Casey! Who's infiltrated the home theater room?" Beckman asked, Tang out of her sight.

"I... I... I see nothing out of the ordinary here," Harry said. Sarah noticed a small wet spot on the front of Harry's khakis. "Carry on, Bartowski," and he started to turn.

She thought about all the rules and how much of a hellscape Harry had made Chuck and Morgan's lives at the Buy More while he was assistant manager. "Stay right where you are."

Chuck's eyes went wide. She smirked inside. The Enforcer voice had that effect on people. "Wait, wait, wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. What are you going to do with him?"

"We'll take care of it," Casey said, and took Harry outside.

"Sarah!" Chuck said.

Sarah gave him an amused smile as she holstered her weapon. "Come on, Chuck. We're just gonna get rid of him. We'll relocate him and he won't bother you and Morgan anymore."

"Do you have this in hand, Agent Walker?" Beckman asked. Sarah nodded. "Good, get some rest, you deserve it." She clicked off.

"Hey, I know we still have cover work to do, but can we talk about that later?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded. "'Kay. I'm bushed. Thanks."

"For what?"

"For making it so easy for me to take that box from you at the hospital," he replied.

She grinned at him and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm not perfect, and you got one over on me."

He just looked at her for a moment, meeting her grin with a serious look. Her grin dimmed a bit, unsure. And then he closed the distance between them, standing close, and leaned down so that he was even closer. "Agent Walker, you aren't the type to let anyone get one over on you." He stooped a bit to kiss her on the forehead and left the room. Sarah found herself standing there for a while, not moving, not quite knowing what had just happened.

}o{

She was was refilling the condiments in the Wienerlicious the next morning when Chuck surprised her by showing up. She'd been stuck in her head, trying to figure out the next step with the cover situation, considering how badly Plan A had gone. And for once, she was glad Chuck wasn't at the Buy More today and she didn't have to worry about him waltzing in. She needed time to put something together and he had a habit of being a distraction. She would welcome it if she was just doing menial work at the Wienerlicious, but this time, she had a lot to work out. So it was with surprise and a tinge of frustration that she looked up to see him holding the door for patrons who were leaving before he strolled in with that smile on his face.

"Oh, hey!" She smiled back, shoving the frustration away. Bring on the distraction, she supposed. "I...didn't know you were coming by. Aren't you off today?"

But Chuck looked troubled.

"Um, Sarah, you know when you think you're going to die, and your whole life is supposed to flash in front of you?" he asked with absolutely no hello or even a slight preamble. "That didn't exactly happen to me yesterday. In fact, mostly it was just a list...that I saw. A list of stuff that I haven't done and things that I haven't had a chance to say." Oh, crap. "So today…" Chuck licked his lips. "Today, I want to start crossing things off of my list. And this is the first thing that I promised myself that I'd do." He wouldn't. He wasn't really going to lean in and kiss her. He couldn't. She didn't know what she'd do if he did. Would she stop him? She had to, didn't she? Crap. "Sarah, what we're doing is crazy."

She blinked, her eyes widening slowly.

"What new couple would have their first night together at his sister's apartment?" What? What the actual what? "I mean we could hear them talking the other night, right? Which means if there was something...happening in my room, they'd hear that. Which is so embarrassing, right?" She just stared. What was he doing? "I know how we fix this. Our Plan B, so to speak." She winced at that but he mercifully didn't see, as caught up in his own head as he was. "I will spend the night at your place. A whole thing with me and Ellie and Awesome, so they know I'm going. Not like...like a big thing. A regular sized thing, 'cause I'm me. And I ask Awesome for a couple of pointers, I mean, not...not that. Maybe not that. And technically I don't even have to ask because he's most likely just gonna offer 'em because that's what he does." He rolled his eyes. "And then we," he said signaling back and forth, "you and I meet here and...well? Do whatever the hell we want."

She got a hold of her senses and ducked her head for a moment. She needed to stop letting him catch her off-guard like this. It was getting out of hand. And then she looked right up into his eyes. "Does that include a rematch?" she asked, a smile curling on her lips.

"God, woman, you are such a demanding girlfriend," he quipped. She smirked at him, giving him a teasing warning look. "And we NEVER do anything like that again, putting on that kind of show at the apartment, because...that was nuts."

"It was," she replied. "But hey, we got through it."

"We did, and we can get through anything, right?" the question hung there. Oh, that cheeky jerk. She knew what he was doing. He couldn't ask the question he wanted the other night when she was affected by the poison, but now, when she had her full arsenal, so to speak, he was going to ask.

"Yes," she said softly. "We can get through anything. Now, you have to do something for me." He raised his eyebrows. "I need you to come with me." She turned away. "SCOOTER!" she yelled. "I'm going on lunch!"

"Miss Walker," he said, coming out of the back. He started to say something else, saw her eyes and reconsidered. "Enjoy."

Her phone rang and she looked at it. "Hey, I need a second. Wait here?" He nodded. She walked outside and took the call. "Yeah?" she answered. She looked in the window seeing Chuck talking to Scooter.

"I meant to ask you somethin'," Casey began. "I don't want to, but it matters, so I will. After I cut the feed, there wasn't a lot of time, so I'm assuming nothing happened."

She shut her eyes and sighed. She got why he had to ask, but she hated it still.

"It didn't."

"Good," Casey said.

"Casey, I thought…" She trailed off.

"I mean you'd be pissed as hell if he had that short of a fuse," Casey retorted. Sarah twisted her lips in amusement trying not to laugh. "Seriously, I need to know if anything happened while we were under the influence of that poison. Anything you had to say to him that...I should know about, just so I know how to handle it. Just in case."

"I'm no more compromised than you," Sarah replied, biting her lip and crossing her arms, inching to the side a bit so she was out of Chuck's sight.

"Well, we're all fucked," Casey stated. She snorted quietly. "And Tang's been successfully relocated, so that's done."

"Good. I'm taking Chuck to my apartment tonight," she said, hating how it sounded, knowing the situation and the implications of all of it, the heavy layers stacked one on top of the other. "So that should be the end of that."

"Go easy on him," Casey said. Not in the mood for that crap, she began a retort when he continued. "If you beat him at video games he'll sulk for a week."

She let out a huff of amusement and just hung up, glad Casey wasn't the type of person who needed a fancy farewell at the end of a phone conversation. She then walked back in and caught Chuck's eye, gesturing with a flick of her head for him to leave with her.

When he joined her outside, she led him towards Lou's.

"What are we doing?" Chuck asked, his step halting a bit. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him up next to her, forcing him to keep walking with her.

"I believe you said at the apartment, and I quote, the idea of sitting down and eating a sandwich with a nice, pretty girl seems like heaven, end quote." He grinned at that. "Now I already know you think I'm pretty, and I have it on good authority that you even sometimes think I'm nice. Soooo, I thought you could enjoy a slice of heaven."

"Sarah," he began, and paused, shaking his head. He chewed a bit on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, then looked down at her. "Thank you."

"I know you had some corny line about me and heaven," she said as they walked into the door.

"I was just going to tell you Heaven wasn't by Michael Bolton it was by Bryan Adams," Chuck said, holding the door for her.

"I told you I don't like Michael Bolton," she said, giving him a look and then waving at Lou who caught her eye from behind the counter.

He leaned down with his face close to hers and narrowed his eyes. "I still don't believe you," he said. She shivered at the feeling of his breath fanning the hair at her temple, but he was already standing at his full height and striding towards the line.

}o{

"Hey…." her voice died as she opened her door. Chuck was in full black tie, the suit and the crisp ironed shirt beneath it, his hair...well, he attempted to do something with it. Why? First of all. And secondly, she was hit anew by how surprisingly good he looked all done up. But still...why? "What…is this? What have you done?"

He snorted at that and tilted his head. "Well, I've been sort of working on the cover in my head since I last saw you. And what with the whole tango thing, Cover Sarah is a pretty classy gal. I mean, not that you're not. But you get it." She just furrowed her brow, not knowing what he was getting at. "And if I'm gonna make up for my sister ruining the whole plan the other night, I'd better show you a super classy night out on the town, pull out all the stops." He tugged at his tie adorably and grinned. "This is a stop."

"I'm kind of impressed."

"With my cover building, or with me in a suit? The tailor at the rental place said I've got the perfect build for a good suit. Though, he could'a been trying to sell me on that extra package." He bent his knees a little, his smile crooked, eyes narrowed. "In case you're wondering, it worked."

She laughed, shaking her head at him.

"Can I come in?" he asked then. "I have to get out of these clothes."

She blinked.

He held up his bag. "My PJs, I stashed 'em in the Herder." She closed her eyes and nodded. "What did you _think_ I was referring to, Sarah? My goodness." She opened her eyes to glare at him, but it was useless. Between the teasing lilt in his voice and the past few days…

"What I think is going to happen is I'm gonna kick your skinny ass at video games."

"It's not that skinny," he replied, mock affronted. And she felt like she'd saved herself a little maybe, opening the door for him to come in. She shrugged, stepping back letting him in. "Unless you know better than me. You have a better vantage point than I do."

"Shut up," she chuckled, shutting the door and rolling her eyes.

* * *

 **A/N:** *Carries the one, stares at the formula, then back at the fic….* SC! I think we did something!

Please leave us a review.

-SC and DC


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N:** Hey, sorry it's taking so long. That's on me, not David. Thanks for being patient. -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from writing this.

* * *

Chuck stood in the Buy More filling out the last part of his paperwork for the install, absolutely exhausted. Sarah was voracious and had kept him up all night. Two or three times he had tried to fake it, but she had called his bluff each time. Finally she had beaten him at a video game, without him intentionally losing, and he collapsed on the couch to sleep, because exhausted or not, sleeping in the same bed with Sarah Walker was something he just didn't know he could do without also doing something stupid.

"Eat news, pal," Morgan said, coming up right beside him, "I am free this evening for a meal. Thinking about a little surf and turf, right? Half meatball, half tuna sub. Then boom!" Morgan turned as they walked by the big TV and they did a half high five, half hand shake. "Call of Duty 4, Modern Warfare. Me and you. Sniper on my back watching me. Oscar Delta."

"I would love to, but I-I have plans tonight," Chuck replied.

"Don't sweat it. Me, too. Slammed. What are you and the lady doing?" Morgan asked.

Okay, Chuck thought, this is what she told me, not to broadcast it but not to be super secretive. "Uh, actually, the lady and I had a late night last night, and I have to open in the morning so I need some rest, you know."

Morgan stuck his arm out and stopped Chuck mid-step. "Wait…" Morgan turned to him. "You and Sarah had a late night last night?" Chuck nodded. "How late are we talking?"

"Morgan, you're my best bud, you know that, and Sarah likes you, but…" He spread his hands. "I really don't think I should talk about it. We just had a late night."

"Wait." Morgan said, his eyes huge. "Dude. Are you telling me?" He bit on his knuckle, trying to keep from crying. "Are you telling me it's finally over?"

"What's finally over?" Chuck asked.

"The Jill curse," Morgan said.

"Morgan, there is no Jill curse," Chuck said. They had made their way to the front of the Nerd Herd desk. "That is something that you and Ellie came up with."

"Chuck, yes or no...Is the curse over?" Morgan asked. They both looked toward the front of the store as Sarah walked in. She was wearing her Wienerlicious uniform, a light grey sweater, and the biggest smile Chuck had ever seen. "God, it's over," Morgan said, tears gathering in his eyes. He bit his first knuckle and turned away.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asked.

"I'm just so happy," Morgan said in a high pitched cry voice. He turned and pulled her into a hug. "I knew you were the one. I knew it. Be good to him, okay?" He let her go and backed away. Chuck was standing there, eyes wide, lips pressed together.

Sarah was puzzled, but nodded. "Do you have any clue what he's talking about?" she asked.

"Uh, maybe," Chuck replied. "But I don't know if—"

"The home theater room is free, if you catch my drift. I'll keep a lookout," Morgan said, slapping Chuck on the back so hard he nearly knocked him over. "You two crazy kids."

"Chuck, what's going on?" Sarah asked softly.

"Sarah," Chuck began, a little panicked as they walked into the theater room and made sure the door was shut. "I didn't do it on purpose, you said not to brag—"

"But don't deny," she said with a grin. "Perfect." Chuck gave her a confused look. "What did you say?"

"I told him I needed some sleep tonight because we were up all night and I had to get up early….why that grin?"

"You let Morgan's mind do all the work," Sarah said grinning.

"Listen, I think you need to know he's close to naming you the one," Chuck replied.

"Do I get a prize for that?"

"Duh, me," he said, his arms outstretched. She nodded. "So, nothing tonight?" She shook her head and he glanced to the door. "Listen, and feel free to say no, but….you, Lou, and I had a good time the other day, what do you think about us taking the Morgster and introducing him to her?"

"Oh, God, I don't know, Chuck," she said with a look of worry on her face. "I mean, can you hear how bad your sandwich talks with Morgan would be if he started dating a sandwich maker?" She burst into laughter as Chuck shook his head.

"How did the CIA let a dork like you in?" he asked. She slugged him in the arm good naturedly. "I swear, missy, you get the milk, and now you want to pound the steak." Both of their eyes got wide. "That sounded so much better in my head. Let's go tell Morgan," he said and started to flee. She grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna have to sell it," she said as she began to run her fingers through his hair. She loosened his tie and undid a shirt button. She nodded in satisfaction at her handwork and they walked outside together.

"You think Morgan's gonna buy this?" Chuck asked under his breath as they neared the desk again.

"You two just can't keep your hands off each other, can you?" Morgan asked, pointing toward Chuck's tie. Chuck gave Sarah a look and she returned a smirk. "Uh, Sarah, I'm sorry. I got a little excited and may have implied that you and Chuck uh, you know, to his coworkers and now...now some of them think…."

"Oh God," Chuck muttered. "Lester?" Morgan nodded. "You know what, I'll—"

Sarah laid a hand on his arm and smiled. "I promise you, I've got it." The smile she gave him made Chuck grin. "But, Morgan, I feel bad." Morgan smiled and made a wave as if to say, "no big deal". "I've taken him from you, and I was thinking, I think I know the perfect person for you."

"I don't know," Morgan said. "I don't know if Carina is over me yet and I'd hate to break another heart of one of your friends. Like, what if they form a club or something?" Chuck was giving Morgan the "what the hell" look. Morgan was ignoring him.

"But, Morgan," Sarah began. "You'd deny my friends the chance to meet someone as wonderful as you?"

Morgan looked to Chuck. Chuck just shrugged, not believing that his friend was buying this. "I mean when you put it that way…"

"Owns a deli, Morgan," Chuck pointed out.

"Deli owner?" Morgan asked. "Okay, hold on a second. A pro?" Morgan looked at Chuck. "Lou?" Chuck nodded. "How close are you two?" he asked Sarah.

"I mean, we only met a few days ago, but I think she'd be lucky to know a guy like you," Sarah said.

"Okay," Morgan relented. Sarah gave Chuck a grin. He was still shaking his head as they all walked out the door.

}o{

They sat at a table to eat and wait for Lou until she could join them when it was slow. Morgan and Lou were actually having a nice conversation and Chuck appeared happy. Sarah was secretly pleased. Chuck had been through so much during this assignment and she was glad that his friend was happy. She was also glad that Morgan cared about Chuck as much as he did and was plugging his apparent success like a true wingman. He was the one actually sealing their cover, which would in turn help to protect Chuck. She glanced over at Chuck to take in the happy smile on his face, but it slipped suddenly and his brow furrowed, his eyes shutting. She subtly slipped her hand over his and squeezed.

"Headache?" she asked. He nodded. "It's the lack of sleep, sorry," she giggled.

"No you're not," he replied, and she gave him a smile. "Hey Lou! Is that a new bulletin board?" he asked, gesturing to the board. She gave him a strange look and shook her head. "Oh. Never saw it before. Uh, what's that flier? The, uh, invite thing?"

She looked over at it, and frowned. "Oh, it's nothing." She walked over, and picked it up. "Some invitation for a party at, uh... Club Ares." She laid it on the table and Sarah's spy senses went into overdrive.

Sarah looked at Chuck. She could see by the look in his eye that he needed more to piece together whatever he'd gotten from his flash. "Who is Stavros Demetrios?" he asked.

"My ex," she said, confused. Sarah saw Morgan stiffen. "He owns the place. Why, do you know him?" Lou's arms were crossed in front of her in a defensive nature. This wasn't good.

"No, not really, no," Chuck said.

"Good. You don't want to. He thought I was dating some guy and he trashed his car. Threatened to kill him. Believe me, the last thing you want is that lunatic swimming around in your head." Chuck nodded and Sarah smiled at him. Morgan looked petrified. Another day, another Intersect flash.

}o{

"Her ex is a smuggler!" Chuck hissed, pacing in front of Sarah as she idly wiped at the counter. There was nothing really on it to clean, but it gave her something to do since she really didn't have a lot of customers. Ever. And if Scooter ever saw her reading a book, he'd be a complete ass about it.

"Yeah. And just think, if you weren't cover dating me, that's what you would've been saddled with," she tried to joke. He gave her a flat look and she cleared her throat, a small smile still on her face. "Sorry."

"I mean, me aside, she did invite Morgan to Club Ares. And Morgan? My best friend Morgan? Not sure how well my small bearded friend melds with smugglers. Not really lookin' forward to having him be murdered by a violent smuggler ex. Especially considering _we_ set him up with Lou." He gestured frantically between them.

"Look, all she said was that the new guy she dated got his car trashed, right? I mean, Morgan doesn't even own a car. So that problem is solved."

Chuck gave her the flattest look she'd seen on him yet. "I don't really know if you're taking this seriously enough. She also said Stavros threatened to kill the guy she dated. And FYI, he might not have a car, but he does have a bike. And he just bought some major hardware for gaming so I know for a fact he doesn't have the money for a new bike. Do you want to drive him to work every day if his bike gets wrecked by Lou's ex-boyfriend smuggler, Sarah?"

She sighed, dropping the cloth in the bin behind her and crossing her arms. "No. But also, I apologize for being so flippant. This guy does seem dangerous and I get you not wanting your best friend walking into the lion's den like that. What do you want to do about it, though? You're the one with the, um," she lowered her voice, "Intersect. Not Morgan. Not sure the CIA would like the idea of us utilizing tax payers' money to protect a guy from his date's ex."

"Why's she taking him to Club Ares, anyway? Seriously. Does she _want_ him to die?"

"Maybe she just thinks he's cute and wants to go on a date with him, Chuck. Is that so strange? I wasn't just being an asshole when I got the idea to fix those two up. He's a good guy, even if sometimes he, um, has his moments." Sarah winced and got a wince back from Chuck. "And I like Lou. She's smart. Nice. Positive. She'd be good for Morgan. They hit it off. She invited him to the club." She shrugged. "I don't know, she kinda seems like a bad ass. She could probably kick Stavros' ass if he tried to start shit with Morgan."

Because Morgan definitely wouldn't be kicking Stavros' ass. And she didn't think that in a mean way, it just...was a fact.

Chuck smirked. "You're probably right about that. I just wish I could be there to watch his back. Ya know?"

"We can't just barge in on their date, Chuck. Anyway, after you had that flash, I looked up that club and it's high-end shit. They don't just let anybody walk in."

"Yeeaaah, I know." He sighed. "Fine. Okay. But I'll never forgive myself if my little buddy gets murdered."

"Listen, if something happens to Morgan's bike, I'll personally go and find Stavros Demetrios myself and beat the shit out of him. Okay?" Chuck pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and narrowed his eyes. There was a glint there, one she decided not to pay too much attention to it. "What?" she prodded, frowning a little.

"Nothin'. No, it's just...you genuinely like Morgan, I think. You like the Bearded One."

"We're buddies. So what? I'm not gonna let some douchebag mess with him."

He just smiled and backed towards the door. "I like how readily you admitted that. I like it a lot, Sarah Walker. And fine. I'm gonna trust you in this. I'm gonna be worried, but I'm gonna trust you."

"Go fix a phone or something," she muttered, twisting her lips to the side to hide her amusement.

He left then and she rolled her eyes, letting the smile out. It was less than a minute later when the bell rang again and she looked up from tying up the bag in the trash and prepping it to take to the dumpster to see something else she'd enjoy inserting into a dumpster.

She'd been waiting for this one. With bated breath.

"I see the coast is clear...mon amour," Lester Patel said in the smoothest voice he could muster. He ran a finger over his eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. "I snuck all the way around the parking lot so as to miss Sir Charles on his way back to the Buy More."

"Congratulations, Larry. That's probably _the most_ pathetic image I can think of at the moment."

He continued to move towards her, undeterred. She really didn't get how some men were so entitled and clueless that they managed to bat away insults and the word "no" like they were never said in the first place, continuing their tireless pursuit.

"It's Lester. Actually."

"Great. What can I get for you?" She slapped a menu down on the counter for him.

"It's really what...I can _do_ for you, milady. See, uh…" He cleared his throat and put his palms on the counter, leaning in. "Our friend Chuck is a little on the rusty side. With dating. He's just a baby. Know what I mean?" He smiled and then flared his nostrils for some reason. "Sometimes I wonder if he doesn't get a little...neglectful—so much goin' on in that big brain of his all the time—and if that's the case, well, it's understandable. But...I just wanted to make sure you knew that I was here for you." He leaned in even more. "I'm here for you."

Sarah narrowed her eyes, but smiled tentatively. "Uh. Thank you?"

"Just doin' what I can to make sure you're happy, Sarah."

"That's very sweet," she said in a supremely sarcastic voice dripping with honey.

"Wanna catch a movie?" he asked. "Maybe grab a...bite?" He clicked the 't' at the end pointedly, showing his teeth. Almost as if he was about to growl. Not to mention the attempt at bedroom eyes.

She dropped the act. What she really needed now was a shower, but she'd settle for absolutely destroying any semblance of confidence this weasel had in his tiny body. She would smash him to smithereens. Pick him up by his toxic sexism and drop him into a vat of reality.

And the reality was that he wouldn't be able to handle a woman like her if he was even a miniscule percentage of the person the man who he was attempting to circumvent was.

"You're asking me out on a date? You do realize I'm dating your friend, right?"

He gave a breathy scoff of a laugh, then looked up at her through his eyelashes. "All's fair in love and war, Sarah," he whispered. She really did need a shower now. Bad.

"You know what you seem like to me?" she asked then, picking up the menu.

"Hm?" He smirked.

"A man who…" She threw the menu like a frisbee so that it slammed hard against the blinds. "...knows what he wants." He jumped at the loud crash of the menu hitting the blinds, and he was still staring at that, startled, as she put both hands on the counter and jumped up onto it, landing cleanly in a spider pose. Black widow...to be exact.

He squeaked in surprise, trying to back away, seeming genuinely unsure of what to do.

"Sure, we could go through all the motions…" She slowly crawled closer and dropped her legs down on either side of him, his eyes widening then quickly darting to the side, pointedly not looking at her. "Get a coffee, banter, maybe a movie...dinner…" She suddenly swung her legs up and hooked them around his back. "Or! We could just…" She yanked him in against the counter so that he winced, abject fear on his face. "Skip all of that nonsense and I could just devour you right here."

"Uh, I—"

She braced her palms on the counter and slammed herself down against it hard. "Ooo! I think this'll hold us."

"Listen, ya know, it's—"

"C'mon, just real quick."

"Uhhh...I…"

"I'll call a few of my girlfriends in…"

"That's an interesting thought..." He pulled away from her and definitely was not looking at her, and it was very much on purpose. "Lemme, lemme just think about th—Yeah. No. I…"

"What's wrong, Lucas?"

"Les—You know what? Lucas is fine." She purposely slipped her foot between his legs and swung it up a bit harder than she maybe needed to, making him cry out in pain and stagger back. "Oh! Your foot seemed to...slip—Is that Jeff? I heard Jeff. Jeff?" he called over his shoulder, his voice quivering in terror. "I'LL BE RIGHT THERE, JEFF!" He let out a nervous chuckle and practically sprinted away from her. "Gotta go!"

"Yeah, good talk, there, Logan!" she called after him as he ran like a bat out of hell back to safety. "Little piece of shit," she growled to herself, meaning to go back behind the bar when she saw Lou making her way past the Wienerlicious. "Hey, Lou!"

She moved to the doorway and waved as the shorter woman turned and fixed wide eyes on her. Then she smiled and crossed the sidewalk towards her. "Oh hey, Sarah. I have a sandwich for, um, Morgan. Or I guess Chuck if Morgan's not, uh, at the store. Uh, don't worry, though, if I end up giving it to Chuck, I'm making him pay for it this time."

Sarah let out a soft giggle. "I appreciate that. Morgan's there, though. They carpooled in the Herder this morning."

"Oh. Good. Thanks."

"Sure." It looked like Lou was getting ready to take her leave, but then Sarah opened her mouth without really even meaning to. "Hey, Lou?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, he's a really good guy. He, um, he might overcompensate sometimes. I'm not sure he's ever really been...treated nice...by people in general. But if you really hang out with him one on one, get to know him, he's good. Really good."

"Ah. Got it. Yeah, I sort of could see that. He seemed nervous when we were talking. But he seems nice. And he really likes sandwiches a lot, which is a huge selling point with me personally." She grinned. "So I'll give the guy a whirl. So to speak."

"Don't hurt him." She added a small smile after the fact, not exactly wanting Lou to feel threatened, but...Sarah just had a need to maybe protect Chuck's bearded best friend. The way Morgan seemed to try to do every day with Chuck, almost unconsciously. And she thought Chuck would appreciate it, too.

"Okay," Lou said, a little meekly. "I wasn't planning on it."

Sarah felt bad, but she just let it go. She wasn't exactly old hat at protecting people's emotions, or...people's best friends' emotions.

"Okay, well...don't want the sandwich getting cold. Um...see ya, Sarah."

"Yeah! Bye, Lou!" She gave a friendly wave and watched as the deli owner hastened out of the Wienerlicious with a quick step. She winced then, hoping she hadn't just ruined that date for Morgan.

She heard her phone buzz in her purse then and ran to it. It was a message from Casey: **Home theater room. Briefing with GB. ASAP.**

Grabbing her keys to the front door, she left the place and locked up, even though they weren't supposed to be closed. Scooter was at an offsite and wouldn't be back for a few hours anyway and probably wouldn't even know.

She made quick work of getting to the Buy More and walked inside. Morgan was already biting into the sandwich Lou brought him, leaning his elbows on a washing machine as the woman watched him with no small amount of pride on her face.

And as Sarah looked in the other direction, she saw a white flash disappear over the checkout counter. She knew inherently that it had been Lester. He was deathly afraid of her now, risking bodily injury by diving over counters to get away from her. GOOD.

Chuck was on hold at the Nerd Herd desk, playing with a stapler. He hadn't seen her yet. But before she could get to him, Casey came from out of nowhere and grabbed the phone from Chuck's hand, slamming it back into its cradle.

"Ah-Hey! That was kind of important…"

"Beckman's got news for us on sandwich girl's ex. That seems a bit more important than some old lady who can't figure out how to delete an email. Home theater room. Stat." He gave a clandestine look around the store, grunted, then disappeared towards the home theater room.

"How did he know that was what it was? That's uncanny," Chuck muttered as she smirked and gestured with a flick of her head for him to follow her.

He got up and fell into step with her. "I mean, five times outta ten, it's usually an old lady who can't figure out how to delete an email. So I guess the odds were in his favor, huh?"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash to the right. Sarah nearly pulled one of her knives but saw it was just Jeff. He'd knocked over one of their cardboard Buy More saleswoman stand-ups and it had hit a few CDs off of the shelf. "Uh. Sorry. Don't...don't murder me," Jeff breathed, disappearing.

"Are you gonna pick that up?" Chuck called after him.

"No…" Jeff's voice just barely carried to them as he sprinted in the other direction.

Sarah smirked.

"Why is he—Wait, what's that smirk?"

"Hm?" Sarah asked, raising her eyebrows and pulling his arm to keep them walking. "I don't know what you mean."

"Why did Jeff look like he was expecting you to go full Predator on his ass?"

"What's that even mean?"

Chuck shook his head. "Uh, nothing. He just looked terrified of you, when usually, he looks at you in a way that makes me want to punch him in his face."

"Aw," she drawled. "Lester probably just told him what I did to him. No big."

But then he grabbed her arm and stopped her, turning her to face him, eyes wide. "What did you do to him? Did you threaten him with one of yours knives? Like, I'd say hallelujah to that, except that people aren't really supposed to know you're a CIA agent who keeps knives on your person."

"No, no. Nothing like that." He gave her a dubious look. "He came into the Wienerlicious to ask me out a few minutes ago, so I gave him what he wanted. Maybe he just couldn't take it." She shrugged innocently. When Chuck furrowed his brow in question, she smirked. "I came onto him really hard and he literally shriveled up like a grape in the Sahara, freaked out, and ran away like he was being chased by a...what was it you said? A Predator?"

Chuck's jaw dropped. And that glint was back in his eye. "Did you seriously do that?"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "He deserved it. And maybe now that he told Jeff what happened, they'll both leave me the fuck alone. Little pipsqueak. Asking me out on a date when for all intents and purposes, he thinks—"

"That's easily the hottest thing anyone's done in a while. No, ever. Hottest thing ever."

She stopped in the middle of her sentence and blinked. How did she respond to that?

"Hey!" They both spun to find Casey with a pissed look on his face, gesturing for them to get into the room for the briefing.

They glanced at each other and hurried into the room. She allowed herself just a moment to wonder if she should be concerned about how easy it was for Chuck Bartowski—the human Intersect and biggest asset to the U.S. government there was—to call her hot. Or maybe she should just consider it a different way; he'd just said what she _did_ was hot. The hottest thing anyone's done in a while. Hottest thing ever. _Oh, no…_

Beckman popped up on the screen as Casey opened his laptop and accepted her call.

"Stavros Demetrious—a handsome playboy," Beckman started with no small amount of cynicism, "owns and operates a number of LA clubs."

"I don't think he's that handsome," Chuck muttered. "Guy doesn't have a beard or anything, so…"

Sarah couldn't help the small smirk and side eye she sent him, sticking up for his best friend like that. It made her feel a bit better about half-threatening Lou for Morgan's sake.

"He's the son of Yari Demetrios, the shipping magnate," Beckman continued as if Chuck hadn't said anything at all.

"What do you mean by 'playboy'? What kind of intel do we have on that?" Chuck asked then, narrowing his eyes. She wasn't sure if there was anyone in the world who was as transparent as Chuck was in this moment.

"What we have…" Beckman emphasized, giving him a look that clearly say _shut up_ , "is information that a volatile package is coming to Los Angeles. The cargo itself is time-sensitive, which, knowing the Demetrios family's ties to the Middle East, could mean a weapon."

Oh, shit.

"Chuck, we need you to get as close to Stavros as possible and see if you flash on anything related to the shipment," Beckman continued. "You've made contact with the deli owner girl, Lou Palone, who is his ex-girlfriend. And we also know that your...bearded friend...is going to Stavros' club tonight. Club Ares."

"What? What? Y-You know about that? How'd you—" Chuck turned and must have spotted the small shrug Casey gave. Of course Casey would have informed his superiors of the Lou connection to Stavros when he briefed Beckman on Chuck's flash. "Oh," he murmured. "Right."

"You want me to get close to Stavros Demetrios, who is the ex of my best friend's date tonight. How exactly do you want me to do that? I don't really see a guy like that and I having much in common. Plus, I don't want to get Morgan involved in all this. The guy is too excited about a woman actually asking _him_ out, and he's walking into this potential weapon smuggling thing without knowing it…"

"Which is why you need to be there," Casey said.

"What, do I ask Morgan if I can come on his date and be _his_ third wheel for once?"

"Just find a way to get into that club, Agent Walker. And get Chuck near Stavros."

"Understood," she said with a nod. She'd find a way. Probably. She'd have to. Chuck might not like it, though.

"Aaaaaaand she hung up. She does not mess around," Chuck murmured. "Guys, this is ridiculous. Morgan's finally getting to go on a real date with a real woman—don't read into that," he snapped when Casey looked ready to snicker, "and I'm about to ruin it by crowding his mojo. That's such bad friending. That's the opposite of a wingman!" He groaned.

"I'll think of something," she said as Casey shut the laptop and led them out of the home theater room.

As Casey wandered away to sell someone a StairMaster or something, Chuck sidled up next to her and leaned down close. "Hey, question."

"Shoot."

"Does the Wienerlicious have security cameras or something? Like has the CIA set something up in there? Just wondering. Maybe there's a way to pull up the footage of what you did to—"

"Guys! Oh, thank God! Thank God, you guys!" Morgan ran up to them and grabbed each of them by an arm.

"What is it?" she asked, her guard up. She looked over his shoulder, eyes scanning the place just to make sure there was no threat.

"Lou just left."

"Uh...Cool, buddy." Chuck sent her a weirded out look.

"No. No, no. Not cool. Not cool, Chuck. Because she told me a little more about her ex, man. And he sounds like Terminator but human and super hot. And I just Googled him, too, and he's got a manbun. It's a beautiful manbun."

Sarah made a dubious sound. "Not a fan of the manbun, personally. And neither is Lou apparently, since she isn't with this guy anymore."

'No, you don't get it. I don't care about his hair or his ripped body. I mean, I do. But mostly, I just don't wanna die. The guy literally called the last guy Lou tried to date on the phone and threatened to pull his spine out through his nose, dude! Even if he's just fronting, the fact that he came up with that visual is legitimately disturbing, man, and I don't think I can do this." He shifted his weight nervously, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Morgan, come on. It's gonna be fine, okay?" she tried to reassure him, but he didn't seem to be buying it.

"I mean, and she told me she goes there all the time. To that club she's taking me to. She gets in without waiting in line, still, even though they broke up, and the bartenders give her cheap drinks. I'd willingly take her to dinner, fancy expensive dinner, and pay for all her drinks _and her food_ if it means my spine isn't pulled outta my body through my nose, man!" Chuck was on the verge of being shaken so hard by his shorter friend that his brain was in danger of being potentially damaged, so she grabbed Morgan's hands and pulled them off of her cover-boyfriend's biceps.

"Well, what do ya want us to do about it, buddy?"

"Come with me," Morgan said.

Sarah widened her eyes and exchanged a look with Chuck. "To your...date?" she asked. "I mean to Club Ares? Morgan, I don't think…"

"Come on! You can both come. I'll talk to Lou about makin' it a double date. She likes you guys. And that means there are more of us, which takes Stavros' attention off of me. Hopefully," he added. Then he clasped his hands together. "Please. Please please. I know you two probably had a nice date planned tonight, but this would mean so much to me. You might save my life, you guys."

"Morgan, you have a chance to—" Sarah subtly nudged Chuck with her elbow in his lower back and he cleared his throat. "You know what? Sure. We'll come. If that makes ya feel better," he said instead. "Right, Sarah?"

Pure joy and relief cascaded over Morgan's face.

"Right," she chirped. "I hear Club Ares is all the rage."

Morgan hugged them both and dashed away, already pulling his phone out of his pocket, to call Lou no doubt.

Sarah let out a low whistle. That had worked out pretty well.

All that remained to be seen was how well this double date in Stavros Demetrios' club was going to go.

}o{

Sarah sat in the club beside Chuck, grinning. Why couldn't all of her missions over the years have been as fun as this one had been so far? Tonight had started like so many other missions involving Chuck...different. She thought back to earlier in the evening.

"I mean I know how to dress myself for a date, Casey," Chuck was saying as she walked into Casey's apartment, his back to Sarah. Chuck hadn't heard her walk in and Casey had seen her. There was a glint in Casey's eye.

"Come on, Bartowski, we need to make you as presentable as possible so people believe you and Walker are actually a couple," Casey quipped.

Chuck sighed. "Well, that would require a complete redo of me so…"

"Moron," Casey grunted. "You think Walker's superficial?"

"Uh, no," Chuck replied. Sarah lifted an eyebrow. What was Casey doing?

"Then act like you belong, confidence is sexy."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Really, you are giving me advice about women? You?"

"I'll have you know many women find me….irresistible," Casey replied. Sarah used every one of her spy skills to keep a straight face, but it took every single one of them. Casey handed Chuck a rose.

"For me? You shouldn't have."

"For the gnome, you idiot."

"Is this equipped with some kind of microscopic, infrared tracking device that determines Lou's mother's communist affiliations?" Chuck asked.

"No, moron, it's so the gnome can get laid," Casey replied.

Chuck was quiet for a second and a grin covered his face. "So the beard can tangle the lower beards?" _Oh God, Chuck, that was…_ Was Casey laughing? Were Casey and Chuck laughing at a joke? At the same joke? At the same time? She had seen enough of this Twilight Zone and reopened and shut the door loudly. Chuck spun and gaped. "Hey...wow...you look...spectacular."

"Thanks, Chuck," she said. "Looking pretty good yourself." She walked over and straightened the coat at the shoulders, and wiped off some nonexistent lint. Chuck was grinning at her. She walked over to a table, got a box and came back. "Need you to wear this."

"Really?" Chuck asked holding up the guitar pin.

"Yes, Chuck, This has an rk-7 mini mic that works up to twenty feet. I want you to keep it as close to Stavros as possible," Sarah explained.

"I can't wear this, it looks ridiculous," Chuck whined.

Casey came up behind Chuck. "The alternative is I come on your date with you."

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Would you pin me, please?"

"Ooo," Casey mocked. "You two going steady?"

Sarah started to comment but Chuck spun before she could. "Sorry, Casey, I don't know the rules of that ancient custom." The two locked eyes before Casey grunted, nodded, and walked off.

Seriously, what the hell was going on with those two?

"So I was Googling pinning to see what it means," Chuck said to Sarah now, pulling her out of her thoughts as they sat in the club. She looked at Chuck, amusement on her face. "First we flipped gender roles, but I'm totally okay with that." She shook her head at him. "Second, you should also give me your letterman jacket, and I know I can't have it because that's secret information. Also I know you were a member of at least 53 varsity sports teams and you were probably the high school quarterback as well." He stopped and looked up. "That's it! I'll just Google female starting quarterback!"

"And what year would you look under?" she asked, her tone slightly more threatening than she meant for it to be.

Chuck looked at her and grinned. Damn it, he knew he had gotten to her. She pushed her tongue into her cheek, trying to keep from returning the grin. "Nope, I'm not that stupid. You never ask a woman's age, but I mean, there aren't a lot of female high school starting quarterbacks."

She leaned over. "I think I can tell you this without breaking any government secrets. I wasn't a quarterback."

"Ah-ha! You fell for my devious plan and revealed something about yourself."

She sighed dramatically. "Yes, Chuck, you figured it out, you amazing spy you. I wasn't a high school quarterback." She shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Yet, she was having fun. Like all the cover dates she had with Chuck.

"But back to the original point of this conversation," Chuck began.

"It had a point?"

"Hush, in today's terms that means we're Facebook official, which means you really need to friend me on Facebook."

Sarah shook her head again. "I have Friendster, is that okay?"

Chuck stared at her for a moment. "You really are adorable, you know that?"

Sarah wasn't sure what to say with that when Morgan plopped down beside them. "Chuck, dude, have you seen him?"

"Who?"

"Stavros," Morgan answered, shaking his head. "I mean, he is good looking on the Internet, but in real life...that manbun doesn't get enough credit."

"I don't get the manbun," Sarah muttered.

"Don't worry, your bun is better than his," Chuck replied.

Morgan stared at Chuck. "Did you say bun or bum?"

Chuck blushed and Sarah shrugged. "Does it matter?" she asked. Morgan burst out laughing. "Morgan, please, be yourself, quit worrying about that jerk. You're a good guy and if Lou doesn't see it...well, that's on her."

"You're right," Morgan said, and hopped up. "I'm going out there and I'm gonna fight for my woman."

"Maybe dial back the 'my woman' part," Chuck said. "I know I'm no expert, but women don't like the super possessive shtick."

"Unless it's the right guy," Sarah said before she could stop herself. Morgan fistbumped Sarah and exploded it. He looked at Chuck, shook his head and walked off. She turned to Chuck who had a huge grin on his face. "Now, which were you talking about? Bun or bum?" Chuck mimed zipping his lips shut.

"Chuck, Sarah, this is Stavros," Lou said, walking up with the aforementioned manbun and introducing them. "He's the owner." Chuck shook his hand and so did Sarah. When she leaned back she leaned into Chuck.

"Hi, cool pin," Stavros said. "I would've worn mine but I lost it in the '80s."

"Isn't it the best?" Sarah asked, looking at it, and smoothing the coat where it was located. "It's one of the things I'm so crazy about him over, his individuality, not worrying about what others think." She kissed him on the cheek. "Won't you join us?" she asked then.

Stavros sat. "I'm gonna try and find Morgan," Lou said, thanking Sarah with her eyes. No sooner had Stavros sat down, a man rushed over and whispered in his ear.

"You must excuse me, duty calls."

"Of course," Sarah answered. He hurried off. "Now what was that about?"

"Walker, Bartowski. Stavros' father Yari just walked in."

"I got them, Casey," Sarah replied. "Chuck and I will get the mic close."

"Sarah, since I never got to witness you play quarterback, will you show me your award winning performance of 'drunk girl that dropped the mic on the tray that's heading to that back room'?" He had taken the pin off and held it out to her.

"I don't know, do I get to see you renew your role as Maleficent?" she retorted, taking the mic.

"I can't help it if I sang the songs the best," Chuck replied, grinning.

"Christ, you two. Can you please just do your job?"

"Casey, switch to decaf," Sarah said, getting up. She turned to Chuck. "Take notes, there will be a quiz later." She stumbled forward, crashing into the server that had the drinks. "I'm so sorry," she slurred, helping the server not tip the tray and sliding the mic in all at the same time. "I was just trying to find the little girls' room."

"It's on the other side of the building," the server replied, rolling his eyes.

"Why'd they move the building?" she asked, and then belched in his face.

"There you are," Chuck said, coming up behind her. "Sweetie, you know you're not supposed to drink that much."

"Why not? You know you like it when I do," she replied, laughing teasingly and laying a hand on his chest. She nipped at his jaw.

"Whoops, not in public, dear," Chuck said, pulling her away. They walked away from the server who at this point had gone back to his life and started back across the room. As they were walking away, Morgan nearly crashed into them.

"Dude, I'm out. What was I thinking dating a girl like this? Coming to a place like this?" He shook his head, his confidence seeming to have seeped out of him. "This is too much, it's too big for me, I just can't."

Sarah put her hand on his back. "Morgan, come on. Don't let that guy get to you."

"He told me my neck is like a chicken's neck. He put his hand around it and my life flashed before my eyes, Sarah. I don't belong in a world like this, or with a girl like that. I don't have it in me. I just wanna go home to my video games and grape soda—where I belong."

The sadness in him was palpable. He was disappointed in himself, she could see. It was like he'd deflated the second he walked into Club Ares. She felt responsible. "Morgan, I'm sorry."

"Nah, nah. It's about me. No one else. I reached too high." He rubbed the back of his neck as Chuck put his hand on Morgan's shoulder and squeezed.

"It's the manbun, isn't it?" Chuck asked.

"OF COURSE IT'S THE MANBUN!" Morgan responded, a bit of a smirk on his face as he teased back. He put his own hand on Chuck's shoulder and chuckled. Lou came up behind him and Sarah pulled back, making room for the shorter woman to put her hand on her date's arm. "Oh. Lou. Hey." He shifted his weight shyly.

"Hey, guys. Um, Morgan...This…Uh, do you wanna get out of here? This maybe wasn't the greatest idea."

Morgan nodded and the two said their goodbyes. Sarah exchanged a look with Chuck as they walked off.

"He'll be okay. The guy's made of strong stuff," Chuck said, looking guilty. Sarah just nodded.

He leaned in then. "So now that I saw the classic drunk girl mic drop, what about that tape of Lester?"

"As soon as I see you in the Maleficent costume," Sarah replied.

}o{

Chuck awoke with a smile on his face. The last two days had been...interesting. He and Sarah went on a mission with Morgan and it was fun. Yesterday was less, but it was just a regular day. A day a normal person might have.

Lou and Morgan had decided to not see each other any more, but he was still welcome at the shop. They both thought it was best they remain friends. Morgan was scared of getting his spine ripped out, and Lou...well, Lou wasn't ready for Morgan to sweat when he was nervous, and Stavros made Morgan sweat.

But that was a real day, no spy work. He felt refreshed, alive. He felt...normal.

"Morning, handsome," he said into the bathroom mirror. "Nice work two nights ago."

"Hey, lover boy," Chuck heard Casey say. He turned and saw Sarah and Casey. "Hasn't that mirror suffered enough already? Didn't it see you dressed as a witch?"

"I am in the bathroom. Okay? Is there nothing sacred to you people?"

"Just the right to bear arms," Casey retorted. Sarah didn't say anything. She had a look on her face...was it disappointment? Who had disappointed her? Was it Lou and Morgan?

"You two look terrible," he said, heading to the kitchen.

"Well, we were up all night explaining to our bosses why we raided a cargo freighter filled with nothing but air and a surveillance camera," Casey explained.

"The mission was compromised," Sarah said, her voice clipped. "Someone set us up."

"Set us up?" Chuck asked, frowning. "What do you mean? You heard Stavros and Yari talk about where the container wa—Oh." He winced, starting to put the pieces together. "They purposely gave a bad tip. Didn't they? That was what happened."

"Ya think?" Casey snarked.

"Chuck, they knew they were being bugged. It's the only explanation for why they would've talked about that cargo freighter." Sarah crossed her arms and looked off to the side, working her jaw. "Someone sold us out."

"I think it was your sandwich maker," Casey added. Chuck turned to stare at them both. Was he crazy?

"Are you kidding me? Lou? Please." He looked at Sarah. "She's my friend. She's _your_ friend, too, Sarah." Sarah didn't say anything, though. Chuck turned back to Casey, walking closer to him, pleading with him. "Come on. I know you don't think much of Morgan, but Sarah and I are both pretty good judges of character."

"Larkin," Casey said and both Chuck and Sarah winced.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Sarah, you've met her, you know her. Come on, you can't think she's in on this. All she cares about are sandwiches! She's no criminal!"

Sarah held her hand out and Casey handed her a picture. She gave it to Chuck. "This was taken at the docks after Lou and Morgan's date."

Chuck stared at it. It was Lou giving Stavros money. It was a blatantly clear photograph. There was no misinterpreting it. He cleared his throat. "I-I'm sure she has a perfectly reasonable explanation for this."

"Good. Can't wait to hear it," Casey said, and he left in a huff.

Chuck tried to hand it back. "Keep it," Sarah said. "We have plenty more."

"Sarah, you can't just—"

"Chuck, you can't trust everyone all the time. Real life just doesn't work that way." With that she turned and walked out.

* * *

 **A/N:** DC here, true story. I thought I dropped the mic on that one, however, it bounced, SC caught it and spiked it. NEXT CHAPTER IT HAPPENS *rubs hands together evilly*

Please review. Thanks!

-SC and DC


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N:** *DC with hands on hips glaring at everyone* ISH! ISH! IIISSSSSHHHH! *SC shoves medicine in DC's mouth and drags him away*

Y'all, trust us. We have a really, really, really, really good plan. When have either of us ever done Charah dirty? In any of our stories? We got them. We got you. -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own anything, not this story, not the characters, and we're making no money from writing this fic.

* * *

Chuck was sitting in the SUV, in a really foul mood. Casey had asked him what he brought for stakeout music and Chuck retorted he didn't do that anymore because someone didn't like Michael Bolton. He saw her eyes cut to him in the backseat and for the first time in a long time he didn't sink from her glare right away. He held Sarah's eyes for long enough that she got the message. Eventually he looked away. A grunt from Casey made him look upfront and he saw a grin on Casey's face watching him in the rearview mirror. Sarah turned to look out the window, a scowl on her face.

The were now parked in front of the club, Casey doing something to his watch. "Okay, Chuck, our intel says Lou should be meeting Stavros behind the club."

"You guys are being paranoid," Chuck insisted. "There's no way Lou's showing up here."

"Now you're mic'ed," Casey said, handing Chuck the watch.

Great," Chuck groused. "Great, thanks a lot. And what will the sandwich police be doing on this stakeout?"

Neither answered, but Sarah sunk down in the seat. "Here we go. We got company."

Chuck looked on in shock as Lou pulled up. What was she doing here? Had he really been wrong about her? Was he really this bad of a judge of character?

"Believe us now?" Casey asked, a bit of "I told you so" in his voice.

"No," Chuck replied, pissed. "As a matter of fact, I don't." He got out of the SUV and followed Lou. He snuck around to the back and hid where he found Lou leaned up against Stavros's car as the smuggler emptied his trunk. He was carrying a shipping crate.

"Thank you, Stavros," Chuck heard Lou say.

"Oh, my pleasure," Stavros answered. He sat the crate down and walked back to her, leaning against the car. "So your friend, Chuck, where'd you meet him?"

"He works at the Buy More, across from the deli. I took my phone in to get it fixed. Why?"

He reached over and brushed her hair back from her face. "Just seems like a great guy. I'll be back with the rest."

Stavros left and Chuck came out of hiding. "Well, hello, Lou. If that is in fact your real name."

"Chuck, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I think the question is what are you doing here?" He felt a righteous frustration, both at the fact that he was wrong about someone he'd thought was cool and nice, and at the fact that Sarah and Casey got to say "I told you so" about this.

"None of your business. Were you following me? Have you been spying on me?"

Chuck started to answer but remembered why he was there. "Hold on a second, don't try and turn this around on me. Okay, I'm not the one— I'm not the one smuggling…" He began to open the crate. "You know, what is this? What is this? Illegal, illegal things with my ex-boyfriend. " He opened the box and assorted meats fell out. "Is that— what is, what is that?"

"Portuguese cured soppressata," Lou answered. "What'd you think was going to be in there?"

"I, uh, I didn't quite know," Chuck answered, feeling foolish. He had listened to Sarah and Casey and he shouldn't have. The righteousness was gone and instead he was just angry. "I just saw you with Stavros and I suspected the worst."

"Right, well, congratulations, Chuck. Your suspicions have been confirmed. I'm a smuggler," Lou said, irritation filling her voice.

Chuck gulped. "You should probably keep that down. Someone'll hear you, okay?" He was covering his watch to try and protect her.

"I know it's illegal! There's no additives or preservatives in it," she yelled. Chuck slipped the watch off and dumped it in the glass behind him, praying it shorted out the mic. She was still going. "It takes ten days to clear customs and by then it's gone bad. Okay, don't get me started on the procedures and how much it costs me to do things legally!" He just stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. When he didn't have anything to say to that, she huffed and began to gather up the meats.

"I'm sorry, Lou. I made a really big mistake," Chuck said.

Lou went up the stairs to the far door. "Looks like I did, too," she said and left.

The near door burst opened, Sarah entering with her gun drawn. "Hey, what happened?"

Chuck just looked at her, clenching his jaw. He was tired of this bullshit. Everything in his life felt like a secret or a lie, and he'd allowed it poison his mind against someone who was a good person, a meat smuggler, sure, but no arms dealer. "What happened? I'll tell you what happened. I let you two manipulate me into not trusting Lou and you were wrong. You were both wrong. And now I've lost yet another friend. A real friend. Someone normal." He huffed, throwing the lid to the crate on the ground with a loud clatter. "I blew it. Again."

"Yes, you did, Chuck," Stavros said, his gun pulled on them, coming in from behind them both. He had armed men with him and he was holding up the recording device. "You most definitely blew it."

}o{

"And here I thought you two made such a cute couple." Stavros smirked as he had his men open the trunk of his car. "A little mismatched, maybe." He grabbed Chuck by his collar and dragged him over to the car as Sarah struggled against the three men having to hold her back. "Though not nearly as mismatched as my Lou and that...small bearded freak."

"Hey, hey now! You leave him out of this," Chuck said over his shoulder as Stavros made him climb into the trunk. Sarah let her gaze linger on the interior of the trunk, looking for anything in there that might help them get out while she could actually see it. "What-What are you doing? Where are you taking us?" Chuck asked, looking over at her with a helpless look on his face as he was forced to lie down in the trunk.

She was then dragged over to the trunk as well. She struggled as much as she could, even bracing her boot on the bumper, but she wasn't strong enough to hold off three large men.

"You don't know who you're fucking with," she said through gritted teeth as she was finally forced down. There was no use trying to move once they were looking down at her and Chuck lying there helplessly. She felt the warmth of him at her back, and she took from it what calm she could as Stavros gave a mocking finger wave before he slammed the trunk shut, trapping them in the dark.

All she had was a dull, red light illuminating the interior. She supposed it was something. "Great. This is just great," she ground out through her teeth.

"Why did you follow me? I had things under control," he hissed. She felt his breath against her ear, his chest pressing into her back in these close quarters. But she had one knife Stavros's men weren't able to find in her fingers and she was wedging it in the trunk door to try to pry it open.

"Yeah. Apparently. We're in a really good situation right now, Chuck," she mocked.

"Oh, sarcasm? That's cute. That's real cute. If you two didn't immediately distrust Lou, we wouldn't have been at the docks in the first place."

"She was seen meeting with Stavros after she dropped Morgan off...handing. him. money. How are we not supposed to think that's incriminating? Huh?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, and she realized he was much closer than she'd thought. "Handing money to a smuggler?"

"It was meat! Stavros was bringing her meat!"

"I know that! But you had to run off by yourself and get captured—"

"Oh and you're so cool that you didn't also get captured. OH WAIT. YA DID."

She was going to elbow him in the face in two seconds. "Because. I. Was. Protecting. You. The feed cut off and I thought you'd been compromised."

"Oh so now I'm a traitor too?"

"I mean compromised in a different way! Stop being such an ass!"

"I wouldn't be such an ass if the stupid government didn't make me an ass!" he hissed. "I was never an ass before. Suddenly, I get a government computer in my brain and two mistrusting agent handlers and I become a big ol' ass! Funny how that happens!"

"Hilarious, now will you give me some damn room?" she snapped.

"No. I will not. Only because there is no more room." He was such a child. The way he'd just said that as if she was stupid and he was explaining something to a misbehaving four year old.

Sarah sought to just ignore him, trying to jam the knife into the trunk lock from the inside this time. She at least was able to tear some of the cloth away and get to the lock.

"So I assume you have a plan to get us out of this mess?"

"Yes!" she snapped. "Right now, Casey is tracking us through a GPS device we had installed on your watch. A SWAT team will be here any minute." A long few moments of silence followed that and she had a bad feeling about that. With how Chuck was usually such a motormouth and everything. "What? What did you do?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him again.

His features hardened in the dim red light. "Yeah, um, about the watch…"

She shifted her body so that her whole side was leaning against his front so that she could get a better look at him. "What?" She fixed wide eyes on him.

"I sort of...Ahem. Well, Lou started confessing to the meat smuggling and she was giving a lot of details and she's my friend still, ya know? I did her dirty not trusting her and I felt like I needed to protect her from the CIA fudging up her business...her life…"

"Chuck…?"

"I took it off and dropped it in a glass of iced coffee so you wouldn't hear what she was saying," he rushed out in one breath.

She slowly turned to fix him with a glare. "You. Did. WHAT?!"

"I was protecting her! So sue me!"

"Sue you? Holy fuck, Chuck Bartowski. We get out of here alive and I'll do way more than sue you! How stupid could you be?"

"Oh, excuse me? You're the one who thought a meat smuggler was involved with an arms deal, _Agent_ Walker! You two are supposed to be the government agents around here, aren't you? All this experience and you made a pretty big miscalculation," he sniveled.

"Only miscalculation I made was in thinking you weren't a big stupid jerk!" she clipped in a low voice. She was spitting mad now. "Emphasis on the stupid part. You taking that watch off really takes the cake, you know that? The only thing that could've probably saved us from this fucking mess."

"Lou was incriminating herself and I didn't want her getting into trouble."

"You put yourself in serious danger for some girl you've only known a few days."

"Jealous?"

He'd hit a definite trigger spot and he most likely didn't even realize it. She felt her jaw twitch as she flipped over onto her other side, their fronts pressed close together, faces only an inch apart. "Jealous?" She let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, come on. What you did was _foolish_! Did you really think the CIA would give a flying fuck about a deli meat smuggler?"

She saw something flash in his eyes in the low light. And his chest puffed out against hers. "Well, excuse me if I'm not Mr. Perfect Spy. We can't all be Bryce Larkin now, can we?"

How in the hell had Bryce come into play here? It washed over her like a warm blanket of satisfaction and validation and she smirked, her eyes bright. "Who's jealous now, huh?"

He clenched his jaw. She'd hit a nerve. Big time. "You're being childish," he snapped.

" _You're_ childish! And your antics got us locked in an arms dealer's trunk and once again I'm gonna have to save both our asses."

"Oh, that's nice. That's great. You can quit any time you want to. You know that?"

Sarah raised her eyes to his and leaned so close their noses were almost brushing. She could feel his breath against her lips but she wasn't thinking about that. Or the way heat was spilling out from her collar and reddening her cheeks. "Said everything you wanna say?"

"More or less," he snarked.

"Good. Now _shut. up._ You're sucking up all the air," she snarled, their noses bumping. He looked struck dumb, like he couldn't find anything else to say. Thank God. She flipped over back onto her other side and scooted back into his body a little harder than was necessary so that she had more room to fiddle with the lock with her knife.

What must've been maybe ten minutes passed, the air in the trunk feeling thinner, even though their argument ended. She could still feel the tension, the heat, and she still wanted to crack her elbow into the jerk's chin for his wise-ass cracks.

But then she felt the car slowing. "We're here," she murmured, setting aside the antipathy between them for a moment. Survival had to take precedence here. "Wherever here is."

Chuck didn't respond. He was probably giving her the silent treatment now. Like a baby.

There was the sound of car doors opening, shutting, and then the trunk flew open and Stavros and Yari were both standing above them, looking down with similar smirks on their faces.

"Ah, yes. Welcome to our turf, my friends," Yari murmured in a faux friendly tone. "Get them out," he said then to his men, hardness in his voice and features. He and Stavros scooted out of the way as Sarah was bodily lifted out of the trunk by three men again, even as she thrashed against them. She was slammed down onto a chair and tied to it by her wrists and ankles. She could already feel how inexpertly they'd tied her up, and her knife was clutched between her fingers in no time at all, sawing away at her bindings on her wrist.

Chuck was unceremoniously shoved into a chair two feet to the right of hers, tied up similarly to her.

"Cozy?" Yari asked, grinning. Neither of them responded. "I only ask because it isn't very often we get to play host here, is it boys?"

"Hard to believe someone who locks people in trunks doesn't typically play kidnapper," Sarah said, needing to keep this conversation going for as long as it took to get herself out of these bindings. What she'd do once she was free, though, she had no idea.

"Well. You seem to have me pegged." He widened his eyes and walked up to Chuck. "Her, I get. She's ice cold. Typical federal agent brat. But you? I don't get you."

"Yeah, I'm hard to peg," Chuck said in a bit of an Eastwood growl, narrowing his eyes.

"I peg him for an idiot," Stavros said with a shrug.

"Hey! That's not nice." Chuck looked over Yari's shoulder and glared at the younger Demetrios. "In spite of you actively ruining my best friend's date, I didn't say anything nasty about you, Stavros!"

Chuck Bartowski's antics were usually either a little cute or at least tolerable, his defense mechanism usually consisting of breathless rambling and confusing pop culture references. But at the moment, she found it insufferable. "Do you ever tire of hearing your own voice?" she asked, cutting off any response Stavros might've made.

All three of them turned to give her a surprised look.

"Oh, excuse me. I don't have years of experience dealing with high pressure situations like you do. Stony silence isn't really my thing."

"Yeah? You should try it sometime maybe."

"Maybe _you_ try to take the stick out of your ass."

"I will! And then I'll proceed to beat you with it."

"Oh, that's nice. That's reeeeeeeeal nice. Really professional."

"Enough!" Yari snapped, and both of them spun to look at him again. Thanks to Chuck being easy to goad, she was almost through the rope binding her wrists. Granted, he said some things she was going to smack him for later, the ass. "You are _both_ unprofessional."

He moved over to a table piled with tools and picked up a drill, eyeing it for a few seconds, turning it and letting her and Chuck look at it for long enough to freak out probably. She wasn't freaking out, but Chuck likely would...but also... _shit_.

"Time is of the essence so let me just cut to the chase," he said finally, turning to face them and strolling the long way around to stand back in front of them. God, her fingers were sweating and it was getting harder to slice the rope. "There is a very important package we are delivering, and in a few minutes it's getting picked up. I want to know who else knows about it. And I think I can get you to tell me."

Chuck looked to her with wide eyes, fear in his face. She gave a small shake of her head. She could get them out of this, but he couldn't tell Yari Demetrios they were CIA. He couldn't tell them who he was, or why he was connected to the CIA. They couldn't know anything.

But all Yari had to do was pull the trigger on the drill a few times, that horrible, shiver-inducing sound filling the room, and Chuck broke.

"Okay, okay! I'll talk! I'll talk."

"Chuck! No!" she snapped. Was he crazy? How could she signal to him that she had this in the bag without their captors figuring out that she nearly had her bindings cut?

"We know...all about the...imported salami," he rushed out, and God, this guy really loved pulling stuff out of his ass on the fly in harrowing situations, didn't he? What in the hell was he up to? She eyed Yari and Stavros to gauge their reactions. "And-And we're cool with it, man! We're so cool with it. Who doesn't love a good hard salami? Sexual innuendo aside, am I right? Heh. Hehe." Jesus Christ, she was going to die. This was really how she was going to die. "Really, I mean, the real crime...is that it is a crime. Know what I'm saying? Why keep people from their meats? What do we have to gain from that? There's no need for torture, Yari," he finished in a rush, cutting to the chase and swallowing thickly.

Yari just stared him down, amusement in his face. And then he turned to look back at his smirking son, before placing his attention back on Chuck and chuckling.

"Mr. Bartowski...I'm not going to torture you…"

"Oh, oh great. That's great. Thank you. See? I knew you were good guys, huh?" He turned to look at Sarah. "Didn't I tell you they—? Great. We're on the same page."

"I'm going to torture her." Yari immediately turned the drill towards her and swung it close to her face. She gulped, but met his gaze solidly, not flinching a bit. Bastard.

"No, nononono! No! We're not on the same page anymore, Yari!" Chuck yelled, struggling against his bindings. She wanted to look at Chuck, maybe reassure him, but she just stared Yari down, narrowing her eyes. _Mother fucker, just try it…_ "We're not even in the same chapter!" Chuck yelled louder, his voice getting higher pitched as Yari activated the drill. God, the sound was truly terrifying. It sent chills through her. This definitely wasn't how she wanted to die.

Yari handed his drill off to another member of his team and she inwardly smirked. Big bad arms smuggler couldn't even do his own torturing. He had to dole it out to one of his lackeys. But then she dropped her gaze, squirming in her chair as the other man held the drill close to her face and her whole head was filled with that awful sound.

"No, no, y-y-you killed a whole family outside of Yerevan!" The drill stopped and Sarah let out a relieved sigh, turning to fix Chuck with her quintessential _did you just flash?_ look. "You stole their heirlooms, and you sold all of them on the Russian black market… except for that watch!" Chuck continued.

The man looked down at his watch, then back up at Chuck, confusion and mostly suspicion in his face. "How do you know that?" he demanded.

Chuck made a desperate sound and turned to the other gunman standing a few feet off to the side of the goon with the drill. "And you! Your name is Vladimir Snell!" The man's eyes narrowed. "Last year, you were paid forty thousand dollars to kill a man named Leo Koloff."

The first man froze, turning his head slowly to look at Snell. "You told me we were paid twenty thousand."

As pissed as she was at him, she had to admit...now that she knew Chuck was using the Intersect to set these two at each other's throats, she was in awe. It was quick thinking, but also… Was he finding a way to almost control his flashes? Was he learning how to properly use the information in the Intersect for situations like this? That was...stunning.

"He's lying!" Snell snapped. "He'll say anything to keep from being tortured!"

"How he know about Yerevan?" the first man asked then, thrusting his free hand inside of his jacket. "He knows everything! And you…? You owe me money…"

Things were going to get bad. She could feel the tension mounting. So she hurried up with cutting her bindings, then knocked her heel against the leg of her chair, making a blade jut out from the toe of her boot.

The first man pulled a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at Snell, and there was a sudden gunshot, Snell going down in a cloud of red.

Yari stood behind them all, his own gun smoking. "Well! That settles that."

Sarah glanced down at the dead man, the blood pooling beneath him. He wasn't wrong about that, she thought to herself with a chill. But Yari seemed to be in a hurry now and that meant her time was almost up.

"So…" He wasn't playing games with the drill anymore. He simply pressed his gun to her temple, still hot enough that it made her wince when it touched her skin. "If you will kindly tell me who else knows about our shipment…" She met his gaze again, eyes hard. She could feel Chuck's eyes on the side of her face, and she could see his head turned towards her in her peripheral.

"The package is here," a man announced from the back. Yari pulled the gun back from her head and turned to look. A guy who looked more apt to work for the Nerd Herd rather than an arms smuggler stood there holding a tablet with a countdown clock on it. What in the hell kind of package had a countdown clock? "Berth 19. We've got five minutes 'til it expires, Sir."

Expires? Fuck…

"All right." Yari didn't seem too broken up when he turned back and shrugged. "We'll just have to kill them."

Sarah could feel the pull of the rope. She was almost out. Just a little more give and she could snap the bindings. Chuck turned to look at her then, though.

"S—There's a bomb. A weapon in the shipment, and it's a bomb. Some kind of chemical bomb," he said, just barely keeping himself from saying her name. "We have to get to it before it blows."

Oh God _damn_ , that was just about the last thing she needed. The last thing Southern California needed. But as she looked at Chuck, eyes wide, she also caught some movement down the row of boxes behind them, a tall Godsend slowly slinking through the shadows towards them.

 _Casey…_

She waited for him to get just close enough, meeting his gaze, that silent conversation they were so good at, and she sliced the ropes around her ankle with a quick and hard flick of her foot, the blade at her toe doing it's job. And just like that, she swung that same foot up and stabbed the first gunman closest to her in his gut, startling him.

There was a blast of a gunshot behind Chuck's shoulder and another gunman hit the deck. She knew Casey had read the look she gave him loud and clear.

Sarah swung her leg around again as she stood and stabbed the gunman in the shoulder with the toe blade this time, sending him to the ground. Chuck was still bound and in the line of fire, she realized, so she placed her boot on his chair and shoved him, sending the chair rolling out of the way. She followed him, ducking down low as she ran, and the gunfire started in earnest.

She felt a bullet whiz past her as she dove down next to Chuck and cut the ropes around his ankles and wrists.

"I'll hold the fort! Go!" Casey ordered and she didn't have to be told twice as she grabbed Chuck and pulled him along with her, out of harm's way, away from the battle. Casey would be just fine. Chuck and the bomb were more important.

As they sprinted out into the dockyard, she led him away from the warehouse, the sounds of gunshots still audible behind them. "Okay, the bomb's at Berth 19," she said, staggering to a stop and grabbing his arm. "Chuck, I want you to get as far away from here as possible."

"No, I'm coming with you."

Was he seriously doing this to her? "You are _not_ coming with me! You're not going anywhere near a live bomb!"

He got in her face and she straightened her spine, standing as tall as she could, clenching her jaw and glaring up at him. "Do you know how to defuse a bomb? Huh, Miss Smarty Pants? Miss Best-All-Around? No! 'Cause you don't have an Intersect in your head! I do!" He dashed away from her then, and she was too caught up in the angry look he'd had on his face to realize it until it was too late to pull him back.

"Hey! Chuck, wait!" God damn him. Damn him to hell. She hated him. She hated him she hated him she hated him. And she felt angry tears start to gather in her eyes as she broke into a sprint to catch him. "You are crazy!" she screamed as she ran.

"I know!" he yelled back.

How did he even know where Berth 19 was? _She_ didn't know. All she knew was she had to get there. Because apparently she wasn't going to succeed in getting Chuck to leave.

"Do you know where you're going?" she asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, this!" He pointed to his head as he skidded around a corner and kept running. She followed after him. "You wouldn't even be able to find the bomb without me!"

She could smack him. She really could. "Now isn't the time for this, Chuck!" she snapped.

It must've taken them over two minutes, sprinting through berths, and she had to trust Chuck had seen the schematics of the docks in his head somehow. Otherwise, a lot of people would die.

"Berth 19! Here, here!" he burst out, turning into a large warehouse building and sliding to a halt.

A large wooden crate the size of a public college dorm room stood in the middle of the building. That was it. That had to be it.

She rushed over to grab a nearby crowbar and tossed it to him with a "here", and took one for herself. "Help me out," she said, refraining from saying anything else snarky. It was all business now. They had lives to save.

They both ran to the crate and worked at prying it open, and when the wooden face of the crate fell open with a loud clatter, the air left her lungs altogether. That was absolutely a bomb, a big bomb, and it was taking out a hell of a lot of people if it went off, she decided as she slowly moved around to stand in front of it.

There was less than a minute left on the countdown. Letting out a rough breath, she hurried to the mechanisms of the bomb and oh so carefully removed the plate in front of it, lowering it down and looking at the mess of wires inside. Shit, she couldn't figure this out. All of her training considering, there was no way she knew what kind of bomb this was. And she especially didn't know how to defuse it.

"C'mon, Intersect," she heard Chuck breathe to himself. "Show me how to do this…"

She'd nearly forgotten about that in her panic. And she spun to look at him with forty-five seconds on the clock. "Did you flash?" she asked, not bothering to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"No...nothing."

That was it then. She turned back to try to peer inside, but it was too dark in here to be able to even see what she was doing if she tried to defuse this.

"Come on!" she heard him say. "Come on come on come on, baby, don't fail me now!"

But it had. And she couldn't let him stay here. She turned. "Okay, Chuck. That's enough. Run. I'm gonna stay and try to defuse it." She turned back, feeling a bubble rise in her chest as she wracked her brain for something, anything. Knowing there was nothing. But at least Chuck could get far away from here. Far...ish.

"No, I'm not leaving you here."

She shut her eyes tightly, then spun around, fury in her face. "Go! That's an order!"

His features hardened and he stood up straighter. Damn it, she recognized this. His spine was made of steel and he wasn't going anywhere. _Damn it, Chuck. Damn it!_

"No!" he snapped, stepping even closer. Stubborn idiot. Stubborn brave idiot. She hated this assignment. She hated how often it had made her question herself. She hated how often it had made her stop and think about...everything. And she hated how often he made her think about things she'd never thought about before. She hated him at the moment. She hated his tall, lanky frame just standing there, courage pouring out of him...just a regular guy who worked at a Buy More making eleven dollars an hour. Who, just a few months ago, had no real goals outside of clocking in on time and beating video games or something. And here he was staring down a bomb, refusing to leave her alone. And she hated him for what it was doing to her insides.

She didn't want him to die.

She didn't like the idea of the world without Chuck Bartowski in it. It'd be a dull, grey world. A world that wasn't as kind. Or as...good. Granted, she was dying with him. So she wouldn't have to see that broken Chuckless world.

She acted without thinking, her anger and hatred at this whole situation taking the reins, and she grabbed the gun she'd picked up off the ground on her way out of Demetrios's warehouse. She cocked it and pointed it at Chuck's forehead. "I. Said. Go," she snarled.

Maybe she was a little desperate. Maybe she needed to know she'd done everything she could to protect him in the end.

"Oh. Okay, I see. You're gonna shoot me to prevent me from being blown up! That's a great plan!"

"Why are you so stubborn?" she demanded, hearing the soul-deep anguish in her own voice, not very well disguised by the anger.

"I don't know!" he yelled as she tucked her gun in her pants at her lower back. "I'd actually consider this a rare moment of courage! I don't know where it's comin' from, maybe you just bring out the worst in me!"

She knew where it was coming from, because it wasn't rare at all. And _damn him._ Damn him for saying something like that when they only had maybe twenty seconds left to live. "And you in me!" she snapped, moving closer to him, face to face. Or they would be face to face if he wasn't so tall.

They met gazes and the bomb started making some extremely concerning sounds that caused her to look at it. Ten seconds. Jesus. This was it. She could feel Chuck's eyes burning into the side of her face. What could she do? What could she say?

She had to say something.

She turned back to look at him, just barely holding in a sob of fear. He'd changed things, hadn't he? He'd changed a lot. Fitting that this man was the crux of her last mission. Someone who brought change with him wherever he went.

But before she could...she didn't even know what...thank him? No. Tell him he was a good person? No. Curse him for being the way he was when so few people deserved his kindness? Especially not… Chuck filled the terrified, empty space with words of his own.

In prime Chuck Bartowski fashion, he breathed, "Well, it was nice knowin' ya."

There was no fear in him for a moment...It was something else. She didn't know what… But she felt it too, whatever it was.

She didn't know how much time was left but as he shut his eyes in preparation to die, she let herself act and she grabbed his face in a hungry grip and yanked him down for a kiss, lifting herself up onto her tiptoes.

It was supposed to be her last act on Earth, to really taste him, know what it felt like to have a man like that press his lips against hers. But the moment his surprise melted and his arm slung around her to pull her closer, his hand that was so unbelievably warm cupping her face, it was like something inside of her was triggered.

A numbing electricity shot through her, filling her limbs, shooting from the ends of her fingers and toes. And she grabbed at him, slinging a hand over the back of his neck and pulling him closer, her other hand twisting in the front of his shirt.

He cupped her face in both hands then, moving his lips against hers, and she couldn't help the soft sigh. As his teeth bumped hers, she let go of his head and grabbed his shirt with both hands, yanking him even closer. It was as if they were of the same mind, as he rounded her waist with one arm and pulled her close, too. She gasped, lifting her foot from the ground to almost catch herself against him, hooking her boot around his calf and arching herself into him.

The electricity turned to fire as Chuck grabbed her by her upper back in a wanton, hungry, and still protective grip, opening his mouth against hers so that their tongues could meet. She'd never felt this before. It was like something was possessing her, had her in its hold, and refused to relinquish her from its grip.

She was losing herself in this.

And suddenly, as she tilted her head and swiped her tongue over his, she realized...very belatedly...that Chuck was starting to freeze against her, under her touch. Not go cold, but just...stop. Shit.

Oh, shit.

She wasn't dead and shit. Shit shit shit.

Oh so slowly, she angled her chin away from him, their lips coming apart with a light smack. She carefully opened her eyes and felt an almost heady sense of...Panic? Heat? Heat and panic?...flood through her. And she looked up into his heated gaze, his surprised gaze...with absolute… God, she was just as startled as he was, wasn't she? Oh God… Shit.

And she realized she had Chuck's shirt in a vice grip like she was afraid he'd go away. It was desperate, needy… She'd never done that… nothing in her life required desperate or needy.

And then Chuck gently took his large hands from her back and cupped her elbows, letting her lower herself down from her tip toes. And she felt the rush of cool air assail her body as she pulled a few inches back.

She felt...sheepish. Or a word that meant the same thing as sheepish, but way more intense and powerful. Like she wanted to just sink into the ground and disappear forever. And also remember the feelings, the sensations for just as long.

}o{

"Well, it was nice knowin' ya." _What the hell, Chuck? What the actual hell, you're about to die and….what?_ She had yanked him down, her lips attached to his. Sarah fucking Walker was kissing him. He was about to die, and she was kissing him. To hell with what was a good idea in this situation. They were about to die and she. was. kissing. him. He slung an arm around her to pull her in and he felt like his body would explode instead of the bomb.

She grabbed his shirt, swung her arm around his neck and pulled him in. His back felt like electricity was pulsating through him where she touched him. He was wild with desire. Sarah. Fucking. Walker. She was kissing him. God, why did he have to die?

He cupped her face, he had to feel her face, she had to know how he felt. It wasn't that she was just beautiful, both inside and out. It wasn't that she was so funny, and she didn't mind him being a nerd. It wasn't that she laughed at his jokes and he could just be with her. No, she had his heart, and his soul in her hands. Sarah Walker was kissing him and she was going to know she was loved as she left this mortal coil.

And then he opened his mouth, her tongue swept over his, and if there was a fire before, it was a raging inferno now. He could get lost forever in her and not care. God, why die now? Why...why were they not dead? He knew he shouldn't stop. But he realized something. The bomb should have gone off by now. Why hadn't it? He stopped, she hadn't, and now, she must have realized. She had told him that acting on this thing between them wasn't wise. He had told her earlier she could quit anytime, but he was angry and hadn't meant that. He gently removed his hands from her back, cupping her elbows and letting her lower herself. Shit. Sarah Walker had kissed him. The woman he had tried to tell himself he didn't love, kissed him. Not just kissed him, but kissed him like he had never been kissed in his life. And he wasn't sure there was one damn thing he could do about it.

}o{

Sarah didn't know what he saw in her face, if it was regret or shame or what she felt underneath that—an enduring and startling fiery desire to do what they just did again and hang the consequences. But she was a good spy, a good agent, and she took his safety seriously. She couldn't do what she just did again. She'd thought that was going to be her last few seconds of life, damn it.

And now they stood here, staring at one another, neither of them seeming to know what to do about this. Because if you stripped away all of the extra stuff—the handler/asset business, the complications, the bomb that didn't go off after all, and the way they'd been at one another's throats all night—she and Chuck had just kissed one another to within an inch of their lives. Literally, she supposed. Since they'd thought they were going to die.

What was she supposed to do with this? With the way he still cupped her elbows so gently, her feet practically on top of his, they were still so close.

She finally took a bit of a step back and Chuck dropped his hands to his sides. Still just...quietly watching her. Still looking as startled as she felt.

"The hell happened?"

They both jumped, but she recovered first, turning to face Casey as he hurried into Berth 19, his gun drawn. He lowered it cautiously upon seeing it was just them.

"W-Where do we even start?" Chuck asked.

Sarah fought so hard to keep from looking at him at that, the way he sounded breathless. There was so much more meaning to what he said, and she knew inherently he wanted her to hear it. Where, indeed?

"The bomb counted down to zero and then...nothing happened," she said, able to keep her own voice steady. _Everything_ happened.

"What do ya mean, _nothing_ happened?" Casey asked, holstering his gun, looking confused.

"Well, we're all still standing here. What do you think? It didn't explode!" she snapped, and she really had to reel herself in a bit because she was losing her footing. She was feeling vulnerable, exposed, raw, and she needed to get away from people. All of them.

"Jesus, Walker. I forgive ya 'cause I'm sure you're all shaken up after nearly bein' blown to radioactive bits. Why don't you two hit the road, get the kid home? I've got my team here. We'll figure out the situation with this bomb."

There was something about the way Casey was looking at Chuck, and then at her, and back to Chuck. And for a moment, she thought he somehow had guessed—maybe one of them had a guilty look when he came in—or worse, he saw them kissing. But then he slowly walked up to Chuck and thumped him on the back, squeezing his shoulder. "You okay, Bartowski? Here." He went into his pocket and pulled out...a cigar?

Chuck furrowed his brow and quietly took it from him. "Uh. Thank you."

"It's right outta Cuba. Don't ask questions." He winked. "Sit out on the patio with some whiskey and that ol' guy and you'll sleep like a baby. Near death experience'll be in the rearview mirror. You don't even gotta wave at it." He thumped him on the back again. "Walker…?"

"I'm fine. I-I don't need a cigar. Thanks."

He snorted in amusement. "I'll keep ya updated." Then he gestured to a few of his team members and took his phone out to call Beckman, no doubt, before starting to get the scene cleaned up. She didn't know if Stavros and Yari Demetrios were dead. She didn't care. She just had to get out of here.

And apparently, Chuck and his Cuban cigar were coming with her.

}o{

She'd freaked out getting behind the steering wheel, trapping herself in a moving box on wheels, in such a small space, with him after what they'd just done to one another. Not just because there was some weird sort of static electricity or magnetism or...she didn't know what...still floating there between them. But because she knew Chuck well enough now a little over two months to know he had to talk things out.

He had this habit of showing up at her door, sweeping into her life again when she least expected it and just laying everything out, sincerely and candidly, and it always left her reeling.

But nothing had left her reeling quite like the way he'd held onto her and kissed her like...well, like it was his last act on Earth and he wanted to make it count. More than that, the way she'd held onto him and kissed him back.

Who was she kidding? She'd kissed _him_. She'd been the one to pull him in. He'd closed his eyes and she'd grabbed him and kissed him. Why why why why why had she done that? She knew why and she didn't.

Either way, Chuck surprised her again. Because he didn't say anything on the ride back to his apartment complex. The full forty-five minutes of on and off again traffic, he'd just sat there. Except for when he asked if it was okay for him to turn the heater on. She was so trapped in her own head, feeling like someone had come and pulled back the veneer of hard spy and left her defenseless, that she didn't notice until he asked that he had no jacket and was shivering.

She finally pulled up to the curb outside of his complex and they just sat there, the car running, the heater running, both of them facing forward. She had a million and one reasons to say goodnight, a hint in her tone so that he understood that meant he could get out and go inside. It was preferable. He'd get out, she'd wait for him to go inside safely, and she speed back to her place like a bat out of hell so that she could lock herself up, hide under the covers...think. Or just drown herself in a shower and not think. If she was feeling desperate enough, maybe a sleeping pill.

But Chuck was wringing his hands in his lap, and she suddenly realized that their kiss wasn't the only thing that had happened tonight. They'd both been so sure that bomb would explode, that they would die. And it didn't matter how often near death experiences happened, it never got much easier. You just learned how… to deal with it. Chuck had been ready to die. And he was alive. Sitting here. Instead. She couldn't imagine the shit that was going through his head.

And she couldn't just let him get out without making sure he was okay.

She felt an underlying anger—at what or whom, she didn't know—maybe because she hated being vulnerable and nothing had made her feel this vulnerable in a long, long time. She had that icky feeling she used to get all the time, sometimes around Bryce even...that feeling like you just wanted to be holed up by yourself with no one else around, hide from the world. She hadn't gotten that feeling as often here, in Burbank. But she had it now.

And yet...she couldn't be unfeeling towards him. He didn't function that way. He wouldn't do that to her. And he deserved better anyway. So she turned off the car. "Ready to go in?"

"Oh. Uh...Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thanks. For the heater, I mean. Should'a brought a jacket."

She offered a small smile and got out of the car. He waited for her to walk around to his side, a quietude about him that should've left her feeling so uncomfortable because it was so unlike him. But there was more of a...camaraderie to it. It almost put her at ease. Because at least he was as rocked by the kiss as she was. She was afraid of what he was thinking. If it was anything like what she was thinking, they were in some significant trouble, and she wasn't a fool...she knew he had feelings. So it was safe to say, they were in some significant trouble.

Even Chuck Bartowski—the...well, chattiest guy she'd ever met in her life without it being downright annoying or entitled—was struck silent by what had happened. And all she could think was _Thank God_.

She thought as they passed through the gate about the cover and very lightly slipped her hand into his. His fingers twitched in hers, and she thought he must've understood because he just barely squeezed to make it look more authentic.

And then they got to the door and she felt terror go through her. She hadn't even thought about Ellie or Devon, or maybe even Morgan if he'd snuck in through Chuck's window again. God, when they walked through this door, everyone would be so sweet and warm. Ellie would ask if she wanted to stay for coffee and had she eaten, they had leftovers. It would make her uncomfortable, and Chuck as well. Or worse, they'd notice things were...tense between the two of them. They wouldn't know why but they'd assume something was wrong, or maybe they'd had a fight. Ellie would corner Chuck later to make sure he was okay, to make sure _they_ were okay. Or she'd call Sarah on the phone and she'd have to guess on a lie that might match Chuck's.

But they stopped, and Chuck didn't take out his keys to open the door like he normally did. Instead he dropped her hand and turned to face her. She just intrinsically understood the look on his face. He'd come to the same conclusion and he was letting her say goodnight here, before all of the familial awkwardness inside could happen. And she couldn't help thinking _bless this emotionally intelligent man_.

He glanced over his shoulder at the door and cleared his throat. And before he could say goodnight and disappear, she noticed the way the pupils in his eyes quivered. He looked shaken up under the startled remnants from the kiss.

"Hey," she said quietly, moving in as close as she dared and peered up into his eyes through her eyelashes. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Chuck seemed to know what she meant and he smiled a little and nodded. "Well, I'm alive. Which is more than I thought I'd be, like…" He glanced at his wrist that didn't have the watch anymore and winced. "Oh. Right." He snorted. "Well, an hourish ago."

She smiled back and nodded. "Okay. Good."

And then she took a step back and nodded again. "Night, Chuck."

"Night," he breathed, his eyes so soft it was freaking stupid, honestly. There was so much comfort there, comfort she felt it was unsafe to seek, even if she maybe needed it. She was rollercoastering between that need to be alone and a need to be reassured that what had happened earlier wasn't the end of everything, that she hadn't completely fucked up.

And when she turned to walk away, she felt his fingers suddenly curl around hers and hold tight. He didn't pull her back or yank her into him for another kiss. Though she hadn't thought he was going to do that for even a second. But she was still confused as she slowly turned to look at him over her shoulder, letting him hang onto her hand.

"Sarah, thank you."

It could've been for anything. She wasn't sure what. And she didn't want to ask. She'd let him have whatever he needed from thanking her, without ruining it with a stupid question. She nodded.

But when he let go of her hand, she didn't leave. She didn't run like most of her brain was screaming at her to do.

She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him. It was a tight, quick hug. And his arms went around her torso almost immediately, squeezing her back. She felt that camaraderie again, that feeling of knowing she wasn't alone. And that icky wanting to be alone feeling faded. Instead she wanted to go inside with him and sit in his rickety computer chair, watching him play one of his games. Or sit at the table drinking coffee with Ellie. Watching Devon kill himself on that stationary bike while calling out weird aerobics-sounding things to no one in particular and then laughing when Ellie rolled her eyes.

But she walked away from him, leaving the courtyard altogether, and getting in her car.

She didn't think this was the end of everything. She didn't think she'd completely fucked up.

But as she turned on the car to go back to her place, she thought maybe she'd fucked up a little. She groaned and shook her head.

}o{

He made sure he had on warm clothes, waited fifteen minutes after she had left, exited the apartment and drove off. His life had changed tonight. First, he had nearly died. Well, he hadn't, but he hadn't known that at the time and then….and then IT had happened. He didn't know what was going to happen between them now, but now he knew something….something he thought he had known before, and if he did, he could ignore it then. Now...now it was too big to ignore. He loved Sarah Walker, and while that revelation was huge in and of itself, the next revelation was even bigger. She felt something for him.

It was possible his lips were convenient. It was possible she swore to herself that she wouldn't die alone. It was possible a bomb going off added a lot more oomph to her kiss. But her grabbing his shirt like he was a life preserver and she was about to drown...that was…something.

He made it to his destination and sat down on the sand. He watched the waves crash in as the moonlight played on the water. _Trust me, Chuck._ He watched the stars twinkle in the sky. _You weren't in the wrong when you tried to act on it_. He watched birds swoop down and heard them call out. _I never heard the words she didn't like or want you. Be gentle with her Chuckles._ Sarah Walker was a human being. Sarah Walker had feelings. She had feelings for Chuck. That was huge, and as huge as it was, it was so fucked up. Because that meant she couldn't act on them. She couldn't see where they could go from here, because if she did...she'd be gone. The sky became gray as the first rays of the morning broke through.

He pulled out his cell phone and called the Buy More telling them he wouldn't be in this morning. He couldn't. It was too much. He couldn't deal with Jeffster. He couldn't deal with Morgan and who knew if Anna would pick today to finally kill him. He couldn't deal with Big Mike, and he damn sure couldn't deal with Casey. He leaned back and groaned. Casey was going to realize something, but if they asked he would just say it was the anniversary of the day he met Jill and he just needed the day.

He hoped nothing happened at the cleanup because an assignment was straight up impossible today. He loved Sarah Walker and she had feelings for him. He wasn't sure the Intersect could currently work with that information running around in his head. He was going to have to get it together at some point. They had to work together. Bryce had seen to that. The son of a bitch. It was a shame he wasn't alive so Chuck could punch him in his pretty boy face. Knowing Sarah Walker had feelings for him was the greatest thing in the world and the worst thing in the world. He lowered his head, his arms wrapped around his knees. He sat there, by himself, trying to figure just what he was going to do.

* * *

 **A/N** : HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY (fireworks) Bwahahahahahahahahahaha.

Please review. Thanks.

-SC and DC


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N:** *DC banging head against wall* Ish, ish, ish. *knocks himself out as SC shakes her head and walks off leaving him there.*

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we don't own these characters.

* * *

Sarah walked up to Casey holding two cups of coffee. She handed one to Casey, who had an amused grin on his face. He looked down at her shoes, and then seemed to be looking where she had just walked.

"Something wrong, Casey?" Sarah asked. She did not have it in her today for any type of verbal sparring with either Casey or Chuck. He shook his head, watching his NSA team go over the package, but she felt him eyeing her several times. "Ask."

"How's Chuck?"

She studied him a second, wondering what in the hell he'd seen last night? No, if he had seen something, he would've said something then. "What do you mean?" Casey stood there, waiting. "As far as I know, he's fine." She paused. "I dropped him off, walked him to the door, and left before Ellie started in. Last night was too much for both of us." Had Chuck called Casey? "Why?" She asked as nonchalantly as she knew how. "Did he say something to you?"

"No," Casey replied, sipping his coffee. Both of them stood there, quietly. For Sarah it was a deafening silence. "Anything happen I should know about?"

She spun toward him. "No! Why would you ask that? You have the video. I took him home last night and dropped him off. I gave him a hug because the guy was shaken up." Casey nodded.

"Let me ask you something, Walker. If the near death experience had him shaken up, do you think he would call you?"

Sarah thought for a second. Would he after last night? She sighed. Absolutely he would, because she was his sounding board, the only person that he could talk to about these types of things. A part of her was so happy about that. She sometimes felt guilty about how much this life forced him to rely on her, and deep down she'd like to believe he'd always choose her, but she didn't know that for sure.

"Yes," she said softly.

"Then why in the hell is he at the beach?" Casey asked pulling up the phone tracer. "Why is he at the beach, and has been, by my best guess, since you left him at home last night?" Sarah stood there fighting with herself not to turn red. He had been so quiet. And she'd missed it. She was so wrapped up in her own feelings ( _Spies don't have feelings_ ) she had missed it. There was no doubt in her mind about what that thank you was for last night. She had chosen to be with him in her final seconds and he recognized it. It was bad enough whatever he felt for her, and she sure as hell wasn't naming what she thought it was, but now he knew she felt things for him...ugh.

"Listen, I know you two haven't been on the same page since this whole 'make love' thing and that sandwich girl showed up," Casey said, pulling her from her thoughts. "Tell me you aren't jealous of Lou."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "Why would I be jealous of her? He even said he can't date her because of this life." Casey was nodding going along with her, and she knew it. She could get out of this. She could. "He's just going through a lot and needs time to process, because that's what he does. He processes."

"Uh-huh. Walker, you do remember that Beckman realizes when the Intersect fritzes or Chuck misses something it's because of his emotional well-being, right?"

 _SHIT._ "Casey, look, you're…" he was staring at her. "I kissed him," she said softly, looking down. "I thought I was going to die and…"

"And you grabbed the nearest pair o' lips to go out with a bang," Casey said, making her look up. The look on his face said he didn't believe what he was saying. "Chuck's misread what has happened and he's having to think about it."

"Yeah...he's misread," Sarah said softly.

"Now that we have the official story out of the way, do you think it's a good idea for the person who's supposed to be protecting him not to be there with him?"

"What if the best protection for him is for me not to be here?" Sarah asked. "What if the best thing is for someone else to protect him, to be his handler?"

"I'm sure he prefers you handle him," Casey said, earning a glare. "But we both know no one will protect him like you do."

One of Casey's men approached him. "All clear, sir."

Casey nodded. "Let's open it up." The man walked away and Casey turned to Sarah. "Whoever shot Yari was here to pick up this package." Sarah gave him a look. "Right, Yari is dead. Someone who didn't want him to talk." They walked toward the device as it began to open. "Looks mean, but it's nonlethal. That timer wasn't a fuse, it was measuring oxygen supply." They both stood there as it opened.

"Oh my God!" Sarah said, both hands covering her mouth.

"Shit, I thought I killed him," Casey groused. He looked at Sarah, and back to Bryce Larkin. "Well, this assignment just got a whole lot more fun."

}o{

She knelt beside him in the sand as he continued looking straight ahead, out towards the water.

"I need to say this, and I need to get it all out, okay?" He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. "I said some absolutely shitty things yesterday. I always try and think of you and your life and what you have to deal with, but yesterday, once you and Casey said what you did about Lou, I didn't even think. I reacted. I lashed out, because I'm tired of everything in my life going wrong—okay, maybe not everything but a lot of freakin' things. Sarah, you keep saying I'm altruistic but I took advantage of this, us... and that's not fair to you. You're stuck here, and I get it, you told me you want to be here, and I appreciate that. But it's gotta be hard. It's gotta be the hardest thing in the world."

He took a deep breath. "I was cruel yesterday when I said that if you don't like this you can leave. I don't want you to leave...but if you wanted to, I'd understand. You are having to do a difficult job and there are days when I know I make it more difficult. I need to be more understanding of that. I need to step back and quit seeing everything from my point of view and realize how things affect you...and Casey, but mostly you. I'm sorry I've been a childish ass."

She sat there quietly for a second as if she didn't know what to say, but she wouldn't have gotten a chance to say it anyway because Chuck's phone went off. He tried to hide the wince when it did, but he never looked at it. "Do you need to take that?" she asked.

"No," Chuck replied, shaking his head. "No, because I know what it's about and I don't want to deal with it." She was silent and he turned to look at her. The curiosity on her face made him shake his head. "You don't want to know."

"Well, now I really do."

"Your funeral. Here." He thrusted his phone towards her, the messages he'd exchanged with Morgan open. At this point, he didn't care much about Morgan's right to privacy.

She took it and looked down at the screen. "Is...this about...you and me?" she asked. He glanced over at the last message from Morgan that said, _Candles in the home theater room, bro! Perfection!_

Realizing she'd just gone there with little to no context didn't help Chuck's brain in the slightest. And he forced himself not to overthink it. "No, scroll up. Scroll up! Read it all." He looked away, verging on mortified.

Sarah scrolled back to the first message and took about thirty seconds to read the entire conversation, or so he figured, before she looked up at the ocean. She handed the phone back to him, not looking at him. "Do you want to explain it to me? Because as close as Morgan and I are now, he texts me with actual words."

"Oh, yeah, Morgs has shortened weird words over the years," Chuck began. "The gist of it is he and Anna are dating."

She turned to him, obviously stunned. "Tell me you are as shocked as I am."

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "They've been friends for a while and lately they have gone to the next level with their bickering." Chuck missed the way Sarah's eyes widened. "The tension has been ridiculous lately between them. There was actually a bet going on about how long it would be before they had sex in the home theater room."

"Did they?" she asked.

"Nope," Chuck replied. "They did it in the break room to get back at Harry Tang, even though he's gone now."

"Why would everyone bet on something like that?" Sarah asked. "Was it that obvious?"

"To everyone but them," Chuck replied. "Anna is terrible at expressing her emotions in any functional way so she belittled and physically assaulted Morgan, and, uh, he liked it." Sarah narrowed her eyes dubiously. "Morgan puts off this air of confidence but underneath it, he has a bunch of insecurities and feels like every girl is out of his league...so he totally misread her cues. I mean, I'm just spitballing, but I've known 'em both long enough that I'm almost one hundred percent sure I'm hitting a bullseye."

"Well, maybe Anna feels like she has to wear armor, put up barricades, because that's the only way she can keep herself safe. Because she's had to protect herself her whole life. Nobody else was around to teach her...how to do it in a...functional way." He watched as she diverted her eyes then. And he realized she probably wasn't talking about Anna—Anna who definitely had two parents who'd always been around, who seemed to take care of everything for her ever since Chuck had known her. Which meant Sarah was talking about...someone else.

Wetting his lips slowly, he put his thoughts together as best he could. She looked like she was out of sorts, and he didn't want to further shove her down the rabbit hole. "That makes sense. I definitely don't hold it against...Anna. It's what she knows, ya know? It's just...you pit that against a guy who isn't super great at reading cues…"

"You think Morgan isn't great at reading cues? Maybe that's been the problem for Anna. That he's too good at reading her cues when she maybe didn't…" She swallowed hard. "...mean for him to see them at all. And now she's in…some trouble."

"Candles in the home theater room trouble?" he teased quietly, and a small smile cracked on her face as she shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. He got the response he'd wanted and silently preened a little.

"Morgan is a good guy," she muttered, looking down at her lap as she drew a pattern with her finger in the sand. "He deserves to be happy. He deserves to feel good about himself. To have confidence in who he is, what he has to offer a woman like Anna."

But there were bigger things they needed to consider. He understood what she wasn't saying. So he nodded and cleared his throat. "You know," he chirped, smirking at her. She gave him an unsure look. "That's not even the craziest part of this. I don't know how far you read…" He wiggled his phone at her, feeling an ache in his chest as he spotted the relief in her face, relief that they were done with that...particular subject.

"It gets crazier?" she asked.

"So Anna found out about the date Morgan went on with Lou—and even though it was a phenomenal failure, she insisted on going to her deli to see, and I quote, 'That Sandwich Slut,' end quote."

"Oh, God. Anna, no. That's awful."

"Right, so Anna goes over there, reads Lou the riot act, and I'm afraid we're banned from the best deli in the greater Los Angeles area for life now. All of us."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, Chuck. I hate that you lost your sandwich."

"Oh, it's still there, it just got a name change. It's now known as the Lying Stalkery Guy Who Fixes Phones or LSGWFP for short." Sarah snorted out laughter. "It's gonna be a hit, I'm sure."

"Okay, so that is crazy," Sarah admitted.

"Oh, that's not the craziest," Chuck replied. He looked at her, his eyes twinkling with laughter. She seemed more at ease now, and he took it as a win. "Morgan wants to bring Anna to Thanksgiving. Actually, I should say... Anna wants Morgan to bring Anna to Thanksgiving."

"Why should that be a problem? Ellie loves having people over. Isn't she always saying, 'the more the merrier' about every get-together?"

"Anna believes Ellie has the hots for Morgs."

"NO!" Sarah said, laughing and falling over backwards in the sand. "No, you're lying!"

He leaned back with his arms braced in the sand behind him. "Nope. Can you say awkward? And you get a front row seat to the whole thing." She was silent and he got the hint pretty clearly. "I can make an excuse…"

"No," she said, and looked him in the eye. "No, I'm not missing Anna and Ellie," she said with a grin. Chuck returned one. "I mean there is no way I'm missing that."

"Yeah," he said softly. "It would be a crime to not watch that amount of awkward tension."

"I think that would almost be impossible to top."

"Oh, no, Sarah, there is nothing that could top that," Chuck replied, the grin growing.

"And poor Ellie isn't going to understand what in the hell is going on."

They chuckled together, but he could see a cloud come over her features as soon as she sobered up. And he decided not to beat around the bush. "What? What is it, Sarah? If you really don't want to go…"

"No, no. It's not that. There's just something...I came out here to tell you. That's...important."

He didn't know what it could be, but he had a feeling it had to do with what happened in front of the bomb, or whatever it was. "Uh, okay. Sure. Whatever you have to tell me. You can tell me anything. I mean, you can talk to me."

"That container wasn't a bomb, Chuck." She took a deep breath. "They found an oxygen gauge, and when they opened it...Bryce was inside and he's alive."

He just stared at her, feeling like the blood in his body had drained out of him, seeping into the sand beneath him. He was chilled to the bone, numb. "Are you serious?" She nodded. He nodded back, his brain going haywire, and he reached down and began to untie his shoes.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to walk into the ocean and not stop until I drown," he said standing.

She grabbed his arm. "No, you can't," she said. He looked down at her. "We are the charter members of the Bryce Larkin Is An Asshole Club and you can't leave me alone at a time like this."

He looked down at her and blew out a breath. "Is this ever not going to be the hardest fucking thing ever?"

She shook her head. And he realized he wasn't sure what he meant by "this", he wondered if she was aware of the ambiguity as well. "But I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

"For now," Chuck replied. She looked at him. "We both know they could take you away at any moment, and when they do...you need to know something first."

She swallowed. He was frustrated by the nerves he could see in her. Didn't she know him by now, though?

"You always have a friend here. Always." She nodded, tears in her eyes. They were gone just as fast. She stood, wiping the sand off of her. Chuck put his shoes back on and they headed to the car.

}o{

Chuck stood there looking through the glass at Bryce, splayed out on a hospital bed, hooked into wires, knocked out, but...alive. "I know what I'm supposed to do here." Casey and Sarah both turned to him. "I'm supposed to say, Sarah, you told me Bryce was dead. I read his obituary. We went to his funeral. How is this possible?" He was quiet for a second. "I have an entire top secret government database in my head, so nothing really shocks me anymore. Of course he isn't dead." He licked his lips. "That's not to say I'm not glad he's alive. Do we know what happened to him?"

"We don't know, Chuck. He won't talk to our people," Sarah replied.

Chuck looked at her, stunned. "Not even you?" he asked softly.

"I came to get you once we realized he was alive. I-I really am not in the mood to talk to him right now." Chuck cut Casey a look, wanting him to leave them alone for a second. The look Casey gave him back clearly said "No, numbnuts."

"He hasn't seen either of us because we don't want him to," Casey cleared up. "And let me tell you I know the shot I took was good so I have no idea how the hell he's here right now." Chuck gave Casey a look and cut his eyes at Sarah meaningfully. He just needed a second with her, to see how she was handling this.

"Christ, is this going to be a thing?" Casey whined.

Chuck threw his hands up and huffed, his attempt at subtlety ruined. Sarah slowly turned toward Casey. "Is what going to be a thing?" she asked.

"Casey, get outta the room so we can talk to each other about feelings," Casey groused. "It's exhausting."

"Can you maybe try to have a little empathy?" Chuck asked through his teeth.

"Empathy about what? Her dead ex popped back up alive. She slept with him," he defended, gesturing to the CIA agent standing between them. "The guy who tapped everything with two legs."

Chuck had enough, his nerves already frayed enough as it was. "Casey, being a little sensitive toward Sarah in light of this super awkward situation might do all of us some good."

He felt the tension in Sarah suddenly, and it snapped. He felt the snap acutely. She spun on him and got in his face, her features hard. "It'll be even more awkward when you're trying to get my foot out of your ass if you ever talk about me as if I'm not standing right here next to you, are we clear?"

Chuck gulped and nodded.

"Besides," Casey threw in, grinning. Chuck barely resisted glaring at him. "She's the one who said the part about everything with two legs."

"Oh," Chuck replied as he saw Sarah wince a little. "I'm sorry."

Sarah worked her jaw and pulled back a bit, taking a breath and shaking her head. "No, I am. I'm a little...on edge."

"Jesus Christ," Casey muttered. "He _asked_ for you," he said, moving things right along. "And we need to know what happened."

"We think he'll talk to you," Sarah said softly.

"You want me to talk to Bryce?" Chuck asked her directly. She nodded. "So, to make sure I understand this, you two... You want me to go in there and ask him...what, exactly? Just so we're on the same page. 'Hey, Bryce, why did you send me the Intersect?' Or, or, there's always the good ol' reliable—"

"I don't want you to do any of that," Casey said, cutting him off. "I want you to go in there and crush his nuts is what I want you to do."

Chuck blinked. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?" Chuck turned to Sarah, but she turned away. The look on her face said she agreed with Casey.

"Graham wants you to go in," Sarah said.

Chuck looked from one to the other. "Does he just hate me or something?"

Sarah glanced at Casey. "You are...unpredictable, and…"

"You're Chuck," Casey finished for her. "You have a way of making everyone talk, even if it's just to get you to shut up."

"How exactly do I start that conversation?" Chuck asked honestly, ignoring Casey's barb. "How do I go in there and not, in your words, Casey...crush his nuts after what he did to me?"

Sarah looked him right in the eye. Those eyes were a stormy blue he had always loved when they were flashing like that. Like there was a lightning storm just beyond the horizon. "Just talk to him, okay? Be a friend, you're good at that." She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "You're not going in alone either, regardless of what Graham said."

He looked over her shoulder at Casey, who would apparently be in the room with him when he talked to Bryce.

"Yeah, me. Wouldn't want to make Bryce angry or jealous," Casey snarked.

Chuck turned toward Casey. "And why would he be?"

Casey shook his head, grabbed Chuck by the shoulder, and marched him to the door. But the NSA agent stopped then and turned to look over his shoulder at Sarah. "I'll protect him," Chuck heard him say. When they got to the door, Casey looked him in the eye. "Remember, he's rogue CIA, a trained assassin... So be careful."

Chuck took a deep breath and started to open the door, when Casey grabbed his shoulder. "If you hit Larkin in the nuts, do it a couple of times just to make sure."

"Are you gonna shoot him?"

"Possibly," Casey replied with a shrug. At least he was honest.

Chuck opened the door and walked in, Casey following. "Who are you?" Bryce asked. His eyes narrowed as he saw Casey. "Hello Casey. Care to try again?" Casey grunted. Bryce looked at Chuck. "Get him out of here."

"No way I'm letting you stay with Bartowski by yourself," Casey said, leaning against a table.

"Hey. Hey, Bryce, buddy. It's me, Chuck."

"I don't believe you," Bryce replied. "What did you do with the real Chuck?"

Chuck turned to Casey. "I'd like to leave now please. He's apparently crazy. I hear dying does that to you."

"Natural born interrogator, huh?" Casey shook his head. Casey turned to Bryce. "I guess I could just shoot you again."

"Wait, Casey, don't shoot him," Chuck said, standing between Casey and Bryce.

"Really, Bartowski? You're protecting this sad sack?"

"Yeah, that sad sack doesn't deserve to die just because he's a jerk," Chuck replied.

"I'm standing...well, restrained right here, you two," Bryce snapped.

"What's wrong, Bryce, are you upset because you're not the center of attention?" Casey asked.

"Chuck," Bryce said, ignoring Casey. "TlhIngan Hol Dajatlh'a'?"

"Oh, come on, really? He's standing right there," Chuck whined.

"Go on, Bartowski, I'd love to know what you two commies are talking about," Casey snarled, the gun still aimed at Bryce.

"Casey, it's…" He looked toward the window. God, less than twelve hours ago he had kissed her and now...now Bryce wanted him to speak Klingon in front of her. She knew he was a nerd, but this big of a nerd…?

"Do it," Bryce insisted. Chuck glared at him.

"HIja'. bIpIvqa'law'," Chuck replied, looking away.

Bryce nodded. "Your Klingon's a bit rusty, Chuck."

Chuck turned slowly toward him, irritation washing over him. "Yeah, I've been kind of busy lately... Ever since I got your e-mail."

"You opened it, didn't you?" Bryce asked.

"Bryce...Shut up." Casey's eyes widened and Bryce looked shocked. "Yeah, I did open that email. And then you know what I did?"

"Bartowski," Casey growled starting to stand.

"No!" he snapped, turning. "I get it, you have me in here for a reason, but what about what the fuck I want? For once! I've dealt with some real shit because of this guy. I've almost died because of this guy. And now that I have the chance to ask him some things, that's what I'm gonna do."

Casey stepped right up to him and looked him in the eye. Chuck swallowed but didn't budge. "Bartowski, you are a complete moron, you know that?"

"I'm well aware of your opinion of me."

"No," Casey said softly. "I don't think you are." Casey nodded and stepped away. He gestured toward Bryce.

"Who are you?" Bryce asked. Chuck could hear the tone in his ex-friend's voice, as if he was wondering what happened to the Chuck he'd known back in Stanford. It pissed him off.

"What? You don't recognize me? The guy who's girlfriend you screwed? The guy who you then sent a program to that you kept him from? Don't you recognize me, Bryce?" Chuck paced back and forth, keeping his hard gaze on the other man.

"What happened to your computer?" Chuck glared at him. Bryce nodded. "So it was destroyed...you're the only one."

"I don't get it, Bryce. Why'd you do it?" Chuck was getting agitated, and began to pace. "Why'd you send me the Intersect? And why did you destroy it afterwards? And how the hell are you still alive?"

"It's complicated," Bryce replied.

"That's my line," Chuck said, earning a snort from Casey. "Who saved you?"

"They did," Bryce replied.

Chuck shook his head. "They saved you?" He rolled his eyes. "Did they? Could you be any more cryptic? Can I get a name, a place, a something?"

"Come here," Bryce said.

Chuck stepped to walk toward him, blocking the shot of Casey. "Don't do that," Casey growled. Bryce grabbed Chuck's tie with his left hand, and broke his right hand free, grabbing and holding a syringe to Chuck's neck. Casey had the gun trained on Bryce.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," Bryce said, staring at Casey. "Untie me!"

Chuck began to untie him as the door burst opened. Bryce, keeping the needle to Chuck's neck turned to see who had joined the party. "Sarah, what are you doing here?" He looked at Chuck. "Oh, so that's why you didn't want to speak Klingon."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Chuck grumbled. Bryce shook his head. "Sarah and Casey don't understand it."

"Looking well, Mrs. Anderson."

"Kiss my ass, Bryce," Sarah said.

For some reason that made Chuck feel better. Much better. Chuck slightly turned to Bryce. "Seems you lost some of your charm with the ladies."

"That's one of the deadliest assassins in the world," Bryce said, locking eyes with her.

Chuck looked right at her. "Could be both," he said softly.

}o{

He was right.

Except for one thing. She wasn't _one of_ the deadliest assassins in the world. She was _the_ deadliest assassin in the world. And she wouldn't pause for a moment to put a bullet in Bryce's forehead if she was given even the slightest shot.

And he had to know that as he dragged Chuck down the hallway, the needle just a millimeter away from piercing the taller man's neck. She didn't know what was in it, if it was actually deadly or not. She wasn't sure if Bryce even knew what was in it.

But they couldn't take any chances.

So as Bryce dragged Chuck around the corner and she followed, spotting reinforcements poised to take the shot themselves, she swung herself out to stand in their way, blocking them from shooting. "Stand down!" she barked at them, pointing her own gun at Bryce. But they all knew her weapon was useless with the way Bryce was using Chuck as a shield.

The asshole knew this was more than just an asset. He was the only Intersect in the world. He knew because he'd put the program into his old college buddy's head himself.

Shit. How could she get Chuck out of this? A small part of her asked if Bryce would really harm Chuck after what he'd done to keep him out of the CIA's clutches back at Stanford. And then a larger part reminded her that this guy was a volatile, extremely dangerous agent who betrayed his country. Maybe.

 _Shit._

"Don't do this, Bryce," she said, slowly following as Bryce inched backwards down the hallway. "We're all on the same side, here." It felt vacuous and hollow even as she said it. She had no idea what sides there even were in this thing. She didn't know why Bryce had done what he'd done. She didn't know what he meant to do here. She just knew she couldn't let anything happen to Chuck.

"Oh, yeah?" Bryce asked sarcastically, tightening his arm around Chuck's upper chest. "What side is that?"

"I've got a shot," Casey said from where he was poised over her shoulder.

"No, you don't!" Chuck yelled, holding both of his hands out. "Are you crazy?!"

Sarah could see the red spot from Casey's gun slowly make its way up Chuck's tie and over to his shoulder. It bobbled dangerously between Chuck's shoulder and Bryce's hand that held the needle.

"You'll be fine," Casey muttered calmly.

He was a fucking sociopath. "Casey," she hissed over her shoulder, not taking her eyes from Bryce for even a second. He met her gaze, his blue eyes flashing. She couldn't read him and that scared her. It hadn't ever scared her before, when they were partners. Because she'd known then that he couldn't read her, either. Neither of them cared to. They did their jobs. They were good spies. Who really cared what they felt or why or whether or not it showed?

But she was afraid of it now. Because Chuck's fate rested in his hands, and she needed to know what his plan was here, whether or not he cared about Chuck's safety, or if he'd actually hurt him, kill him even. She had no more answers than she'd had before they opened that container to find Bryce alive inside of it. In fact, all she really had was a shit ton more questions. And Chuck was in real trouble here.

"No shooting! No shooting, I'm susceptible to bullets!" Chuck yelled, waving his hands around, making it that much harder for either of them to take any kind of accurate shot at Bryce. Not that she could do it anyway. Chuck was right. He was susceptible to bullets and she would never risk putting one in him.

As Bryce backed Chuck inside of an elevator, Sarah froze. She couldn't let them out of her sight. She didn't know what would happen. She needed to do her job. She needed to do what she'd promised Chuck, herself, she would do. How could she keep him safe if she let Bryce make off with him?

She wracked her brain for something.

Bryce reached around Chuck then and tried the button to close the door. "Access Restricted" a robotic voice announced.

"Give me the access code!" the turncoat ordered.

"If I give it to you, you can let him go. Right? You'll be out of here, scot-free. Give him to me and you'll get the code to work the elevator."

"You think I'm an idiot, Sarah?" Bryce asked.

"No, but I do think y—"

"I'll kill him, Sarah! Give me the fucking code!" he bellowed this time, and she watched the needle get that much closer to Chuck's neck. Her heart was in her throat. She'd been about to say she thought he cared about Chuck...But she wasn't sure at the moment.

"Between you and me, Sarah...I think he means it!" Chuck half-whimpered.

"Give me Chuck!" she barked back.

"The code!"

They could maybe intercept the elevator. That was an option. But she had no way of knowing Bryce wouldn't hurt Chuck if his elevator stopped earlier than he meant for it too. Then again, if he hurt or killed Chuck, they had a clear shot at him once the doors opened. His bargaining chip, his shield, would be gone. "51602!" she burst out, her voice nearly getting caught in her throat. She felt Casey give her a look that said _are you fucking stupid or something?_ But she ignored it, watching Bryce lean over and plug in the code.

As the doors began to slide shut, Chuck met her gaze, terror in his brown eyes. "Sarah!" he pleaded, and then he was gone.

"Call control. Tell them to stop Elevator G9 as soon as possible," she barked over her shoulder. "Now!" She sprinted for the stairs, forcing her fears away and going full CIA agent. Nothing was going to happen to Chuck. She'd murder Bryce herself for this. Casey got his shot. This time she'd get hers, and she wouldn't fucking miss.

}o{

Maybe this was already hell. Because life hadn't already punished him enough, when Bryce killed him, he went straight to hell. And the music here was...elevator-y. He hadn't even met Mark Hamill yet. This was so unfair. He wanted more time, and…

Bryce let go of him suddenly, letting him step away. "You knew I wouldn't do it, right?"

And just like that, white hot rage flooded through him. He spun on the other man, that jolly, smirkish bullshit tone in Bryce Larkin's voice making him almost feel murderous. "NO. No. I. Did. Not. Know. That. How would I know that, Bryce? You sorta had a needle at my neck and literally said you were going to kill me!"

But Bryce didn't seem to be paying attention as he looked around the upper corners of the elevator.

"What are you trying to do?" Chuck demanded to know.

But then the other man lowered his gaze to him, narrowing his eyes. "What's Sarah doing here, Chuck?"

"You sent me the Intersect so the CIA sent their best agent to protect me! Why do you think she's here? Casey's protecting me, too. We're the good guys! But you do not wanna make them mad! Especially not Sarah, okay?"

Bryce smirked. "I'm well-versed in that, pal. But she isn't the one who shot me. He is. I'm not taking any…" Then his eyes slowly drifted down to the access pad on the wall and the smug look on his face left, concern there instead. "We're slowing down. It's stopping early. Shit…"

Chuck rolled his eyes as he knew exactly what was coming. The shorter man grabbed him and yanked him back against him, arm around his upper chest, the needle pressed to his neck again.

But when the doors opened, it wasn't Sarah and Casey standing there. Instead, a man he'd never seen before was waiting there, his hands in his pants pockets. The look on his face was casual enough, but the scar...A scar...oh…oh boy…

The flash went through him fast, images of the murderer standing over a body, wiping blood off of a knife, files connecting him to something called...Fulcrum. He'd never heard of it before.

"Bryce," the newcomer practically hissed. "Who's your friend?" He took a step closer, and Chuck automatically felt like this guy was a lot more dangerous to his well-being than the asshole holding a needle to his neck currently.

"Step back," Bryce warned, and Chuck heard a thread of nerves there. That more than anything freaked him the hell out.

"Okay…" The man stopped, hands still in his pockets. "I wouldn't want you to kill some...random person. I'd feel just terrible," he groused sarcastically.

"Tell your people that I'm gone."

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes a bit. "This is your chance, Bryce. This is me being reasonable." He gave a placating shrug, not even a speck of sincerity in his tone, instead some mockery there, Chuck felt. "Let's go. Come on. Let's be friends again."

"We were never friends."

"Ouch. Now my feelings are hurt."

Who in the hell was this guy and what was Fulcrum? Why did he know Bryce? Did any of it have to do with the Intersect? At least whoever this was didn't know _he_ was the Intersect, at least.

"You're gonna run, aren't you?" the man asked then. Bryce must've nodded because the scarred man smirked, a challenge in his features as he muttered, "Good."

The doors shut again, leaving Chuck and Bryce alone once more. He let go of him again and Chuck turned on his heel. "Who is that?"

There was a long pause before Bryce said, "Nobody." Chuck read the look on his face, and he wasn't a moron, contrary to what Casey always said. That wasn't _nobody_. It had shaken Bryce to see that guy here.

"What's Fulcrum?" he asked this time.

Bryce turned wide eyes on him. "Where did you hear that?"

Chuck tapped his temple. "The Intersect. I see things or hear things and I-I have these flashes." In spite of how much he hated the man standing in front of him, it felt good to be able to tell someone about the flashes. It felt good to talk about it with someone he knew, even if he still didn't know what in the hell Bryce's plan was.

"I was right," Bryce breathed, stepping closer, awe in his face. "You can remember its intel." He almost looked excited and Chuck wanted to slam his fist into his pretty boy face. "Is it always that fast?"

"What is Fulcrum, Bryce? Who are they and how do they know you?" he asked through gritted teeth. Chuck had a gut feeling he wasn't going to have much more time to get answers. The elevator was going to stop and _somebody_ would be standing on the other side of those doors, and he'd never get any answers from Bryce again, whatever happened.

But suddenly the elevator stalled with a lurch and an alarm bell went off. Bryce sighed. "Sarah. Well, Chuck. Sorry, pal. This is my stop." He clamped his hand onto Chuck's shoulder, a regretful look on his face.

"No, no, no, no. No wait. I have questions. I have millions of questions."

"I know. Hey, listen… This is gonna sting. Just a little, though…"

Chuck frowned in confusion, and then he felt an incredibly painful sensation in his arm. Bryce's blurry face slid up close to his. "Tell Sarah it's hard to say goodbye."

He wanted to tell Bryce to go fuck himself but the darkness came and took him as he crumpled to the ground and lost consciousness altogether.

}o{

"Hurry up!" she snapped as they finally pried the doors to the elevator shaft open, and she leaned in to look up first, then down. The elevator had halted a good five feet below the floor she stood on, and the hatch had been shoved out of the way, allowing her to see down to the carpeted… oh, no. God, no.

"Chuck!" she called. "Chuck, can you hear me? You okay? Chuck!"

He didn't budge. He was on his side and she could see the blood on his shirt sleeve. Bryce had dosed him with whatever the hell was in that needle.

"What?" Casey barked behind her.

"Get the elevator up here," Sarah ordered, gauging that she couldn't jump down safely enough. She had to keep her head. "Now."

Casey leaned in and peeked down as well. "Shit. Come on. You heard her!"

They heard the loud groan of the elevator being brought back to life, the alarm bell stopping, and the elevator slowly slid up the shaft towards them. They pulled back and let the doors slam shut, waiting for the light above the elevator and the ding.

The door swept open and Sarah was inside immediately, shoving Casey out of her way as she dove to her knees next to Chuck. Her hands shook as she grabbed his arms and turned him onto his back. He was terrifyingly limp. "Chuck? Hey. Can you hear me?"

She breathed out a commanding, "Come on, Chuck," as she pat his cheek. With her other hand, she placed two fingers on his neck, immediately feeling that glorious fluttering of his heartbeat there. Biting back a gasp of relief, she said, "He's alive. Hey, Chuck...Come on…"

He finally jumped a little under her touch, his eyelids fluttering open. "H-H-wha?" he mumbled, blinking at her. A weak hand landed on hers then and held on. "Hiii, yooooou…"

This time, Casey moved her out of the way and looked down at Chuck, forcibly pulling his eyelids open with his fingers and peering into them. "He'll be fine." He handed her the needle and she saw most of the whiskey colored liquid was still in the vial. "He's only got a bit of it in his system."

"Uglyyyy!" Chuck was groaning, reaching up to try to push Casey away. Casey just slapped his hand from his face. "Bring back the prettyyyyy…"

"Let's get the idiot up." Casey stood and gestured for a few of their reinforcements to come in and bodily heft Chuck up to his feet. With his arms slung over two of the men's shoulders, he didn't have to use his feet, which was good, since it didn't look like he could anytime soon. "The rest of you, spread out. Still got an AWOL turncoat on the loose."

They hastened away as Chuck was taken to a proper recovery room and laid out on an uncomfortable looking slab with a sheet on it. She was forced to leave him there with a CIA medic, waiting outside in the hallway with Casey.

"So who's gonna brief the bosses?" Casey grunted, crossing his arms.

She let out a huff and shook her head, mimicking his pose. "They were the ones who insisted we comply with Bryce's request. We didn't want Chuck here."

"Yeah," he growled. "And yet, we're gonna be holdin' the bag with this one. You should'a just let me take the shot—"

"Sir." One of Casey's men came up to them and saluted. "He got away."

"'Course he did," the NSA agent said with a nod. He waved the man away. "Should'a let me take that shot."

"And kill Chuck instead?"

"Well, now that piece o' shit is out there doing who knows what. The last time that happened, we got all our secrets jammed into a Buy More loser's head. What's next? He got an Intersect to give the bearded troll too? Jesus."

Sarah shook her head and pushed away from the wall. "I'll talk to Graham. You stay here and make sure nobody gets in that room who isn't authorized."

Casey made a face. "Yeah, I know my job. Thanks."

So now everyone would be in a pissed mood. This was great. Really, really great. She pulled her cell out of her pocket as she walked away from the room where Chuck was, recuperating from a small dose of a rough anesthesia.

She just wished things would stop sucking for a God damn second.

}o{

He was quiet on the drive back to his apartment complex. Too quiet. The guy who had to talk about everything all the time suddenly didn't seem to have anything to say and it was concerning.

He'd finally talked to Bryce for the first time since he sent him that email with the Intersect, then he was used as a human shield and knocked out by him.

It wasn't like there wasn't an array of things to talk about.

She let him be, however. Instead focusing on getting him home in one piece. They'd released Chuck after two hours of monitoring him. Everything seemed all right finally, and he insisted he was okay, albeit the deep frown on his face and the slump of his shoulders. And when they told him Bryce got away, the frown deepened.

Now they sat in her car at the curb outside of his complex. In silence. Again.

She finally interrupted said silence. "Chuck, are you feeling okay?"

"Mhm." He shrugged. "Considering."

She watched as he opened the passenger door and got out, shaking herself a bit and following after him, giving him some space as they strolled through the gate and into the courtyard. "Well, don't worry, Chuck. What Bryce gave you ended up being pretty weak stuff. And he made sure not to give you a full dose, anyway, so it'll be out of your system completely in a few hours. You can just...sleep it off."

He nodded as they strolled up to the fountain. "Thanks," he said, turning to face her head on. She smiled wanly at him, aware that they both knew her reassuring words were just an unnecessary space filler. "Well, I'm feelin' okay, pretty much normal now, so...I can probably handle it from here."

"Good. Okay." She folded her hands together in front of her, not entirely wanting to leave him here alone. She had that image of him on the floor of the elevator through the open hatch, unmoving, imprinted in her brain. It sent a chill through her. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. I'm okay. Uh, but are you and Casey gonna go after Bryce now?"

She couldn't exactly read the look on his face. "No. I mean, he's probably halfway to the other side of the world by now. He's too smart to stick around here. Anyway, it's someone else's job to find him. Our job is here."

"Ah. Right. Keeping me safe." He cleared his throat. "But I mean, technically, Bryce is connected to...all this. In a preeeetty big way." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Right. Yes. He is, but protecting you is the priority. Bryce is _not_ the priority."

"Oh. Okay, that makes sense. Yeah. Here's the, uh, the thing. If you've got a minute." She frowned as he winced, sticking his hands in his pockets. "In that elevator, something… happened."

"Besides him knocking you out?" she asked, her heart racing as she stepped a little closer. She grabbed his arm and walked him away from one of the places she knew there was a mic. She didn't know why she did it—maybe just a weird impulse—but it didn't make any difference. The mics were positioned so that everything out here could be heard, as long as someone was listening. "What happened, Chuck? Tell me."

"I tried asking him what it was all about but then you guys pulled the emergency brakes on the elevator and he stuck me with the horrifically giant needle."

"What _what_ was all about? Him sending you the Intersect?"

"No. No, I didn't get a chance to ask him about that because we made a stop before you were able to get the elevator shut off, Sarah." She stayed quiet, just eyeing him steadily. "There was some guy standing there when the doors opened. Someone I'd never seen before. Wicked scar on his cheek right here...like this." He hooked his finger from his temple, down over his cheek, and up to the other side of his eye. "I flashed on 'im. I tried to ask Bryce about it, but he...he tried to talk around it, wouldn't answer…"

"You flashed on him? Why was this guy in the Intersect? How'd he get into our base?" she asked, trying to keep her voice down even though she had an increasingly uneasy feeling going through her.

"I dunno!" he responded, shaking his head. "I have no clue. But I know he was nervous."

"The scar guy?"

"No. Bryce was nervous." Sarah looked down, a chill wracking her body. "It freaked me out. Like, the same way I'd be freaked out if someone showed up here right now and I saw you were scared of them. Nobody scares you, Sarah. And I can't imagine it was anyone good if it spooked Bryce Larkin to see him there."

"No, y-you're right. But you said you flashed. Was there...nothing in the flash?"

"I know he's murdered people," he said. "And there was a word. Bryce didn't tell me what it was, but he seemed surprised and concerned when I asked him about it."

"What word?"

"Fulcrum."

Sarah furrowed her brow and shook her head. "Fulcrum? What's Fulcrum?"

"I don't know. That's why I asked Bryce, but he wouldn't tell me. You stopped the elevator. Granted, I have a feeling he was just going to charmingly deflect from answering anyway, because that's his freaking thing," he said in a sarcastically sugary tone, shaking his head and glaring down at the fountain.

"Well, we're getting to the bottom of this. I'm going to bring it to Casey and our superiors. If Bryce has been in contact with this person before, we need to know who he is and what this Fulcrum thing is."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe-maybe it'll help us find Bryce." She gave him a look and he winced. "Or, um, the people whose job it is to find Bryce. Since that's not...your job." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I suppose I should… try to shower." He made a face. "Or I mean, shower. Not _try to_ shower. That was...weird...phrasing." He cleared his throat again and shook his head as she bit the inside of her cheek. At least he was back to his usual self.

"That's a good idea. If you need help, you could always call Casey, you know. He's right across the courtyard…"

He made a face at her. "Haaaa." She giggled. "Listen, Sarah, uh...thanks for not trying to shoot him. Bryce, I mean. I know you didn't have a lot of options in that situation. So thanks."

She nodded. "You're welcome."

"Are you okay?"

She froze a bit, slowly lifting her eyes to his. "Um. Yeah. I am."

"No, I mean...I mean, this is pretty wild, Bryce being alive. Considering you and I are pretty much the founding members of the Bryce Larkin Is An Asshole Club, this hasn't been an easy day. For either of us. I'm spooked and a little shaky and confused and angry and...I could go on for days. ...But are you gonna be okay? Your, uh, your history, I mean…"

Sarah nodded quickly, trying to cut him off. "I'm fine, Chuck. At the end of the day, I'm a spy. A professional."

"Sure, but you're also human. So I'm just...checking up on ya. I guess."

She wasn't sure how to handle the fact that he continued to do things that made her insides feel so warm. She wanted to hug him. Especially after the scare he'd given her in the elevator. She had a lot pent up, she realized belatedly. And if she hugged him, it'd be a while before she let go and maybe that wasn't in either of their best interest right now. So instead, she nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it, Chuck. I'm okay, though."

Before he could say anything else, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Ellie coming into the courtyard with a bag of groceries in her arms.

"Hey!" Chuck grinned at his sister. "Hey, sis!"

"Hi," she breathed, flicking her green eyes over at Sarah. "Hey, Sarah! It's good to see you. Feels like it's been a bit."

"Yeah, really." She shrugged, and then accepted the one-armed hug from Ellie. That was the only hug she'd be getting tonight, it seemed, and she was going to make do.

"Are you coming to Thanksgiving?" Ellie asked, and Sarah caught the subtle look the brunette gave her brother. As if she was saying _You better've asked her_.

Sarah glanced at Chuck and took a deep breath, seeing the slightly apologetic look on his face. She didn't quite get why, she'd already said she was going to go. Maybe the way his sister was asking in that tone that said she'd better be coming to Thanksgiving. "Of course!" she chirped, turning back to beam at Ellie.

"Good! Oh, I'm so glad!" And there was another warm feeling in the spy at the genuine affection in the older woman's features. "Okay, well, I'll see you soon then, huh?" She squeezed Sarah's shoulder and swept past, pushing into the apartment and leaving them alone in the courtyard again.

"Well, get some rest, Chuck."

"Yeah. I will. Thanks."

She turned on her heel and walked out of the courtyard, stopping just out of sight and listening for the sound of his door shutting before she went to her car. She was admittedly shaken up about Chuck's revelation concerning Bryce and this Fulcrum guy. How was he inside of a government facility? How had he found Bryce? Had Bryce contacted him? Did he help get Bryce out of there? And what in the hell was Fulcrum?

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading. Please review!

-SC and DC


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N:** Thanks for sticking around through the long break. It was me again. Multitasking is hard. Feel free to yell at me in my DMs or in your reviews. I'll survive. -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making money.

* * *

Chuck looked down to find he was standing at the end of a long plank just wide enough for both of his feet to stay on. What the—? He followed the plank, past the fulcrum that balanced it in the middle, and spotted Bryce standing on the far end in a mirror of his own situation. What was Bryce doing here? And why did he have a bag of peanuts? Why were he and Bryce standing on opposite ends of a seesaw?

"I'm glad you're not dead, but…why do you keep fucking up my life?" he asked.

Bryce didn't answer, he just threw a peanut shell instead.

"Seriously, dude!"

Bryce wordlessly threw another peanut. Chuck began to step toward him and the board tilted. He stopped moving immediately to keep his balance with the sudden shift and eased back a little again. Bryce smirked at him.

"You aren't ready to handle Fulcrum, you aren't a spy," Bryce told him.

"No shit," Chuck replied. "Well, thank GOD you told me that. And yet I'm the one you sent this to," he said, pointing to his head.

"Because you'll keep the Intersect safe, and her safe."

"She doesn't need me to keep her safe," Chuck replied.

"Just keep her safe until I can get back to her," Bryce said. "It's like you said, I get all the best girls."

"Chuck," the voice came from beside him. He blinked and Bryce, the peanuts, and the seesaw all went away. He opened his eyes and rolled over, confused. Sarah was there beside him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied.

"Good," Sarah said, reaching over and moving a curl. "It really worried me, finding you like that. You have to be more careful, Chuck." She moved her hand down to his cheek and stroked it lightly with the backs of her fingers. "You're important, Chuck. I need you to know that."

"Sarah..." Chuck began.

"Listen, we need to talk about that kiss," Sarah said softly.

"Really?" Chuck asked, hope in his mind.

"Mmmhmm," Sarah hummed. "You're important to me, Chuck."

"You're important to me too, Sarah," Chuck replied, leaning towards her. Her hand hit him in the chest, stopping him, an eyebrow raised.

"Chuck, you're the Intersect, I have to keep you safe so one day Bryce and I can be back together."

The bedroom door opened and Bryce walked in, holding the fulcrum from the seesaw. He tossed it to Chuck. "Ready, Babe?"

Sarah hopped up, went over to him, kissed him, and they left, hand in hand. Chuck gaped at the doorway, then stared down at the fulcrum in his hands.

His alarm went off, pulling him from the crazy dream. He immediately made sure there were no fulcrums around. "I hate me," he muttered.

}o{

This time, she went to the grocery store on her own, buying the seasonally appropriate flower arrangement without needing to ask her CIA contacts to get it for her. It felt...important, for some reason. It had been something like twenty years since she remembered having anything close to the type of Thanksgiving people had in movies. The big turkey in the middle of the table, the side dishes, everyone sitting together eating and laughing.

Even then, it was just her and her mom, a small store-cooked bird between them. The other Thanksgivings she remembered around that time weren't fit to celebrate, and instead she'd been in motel with her dad or something, or in the passenger seat of whatever smelly car he'd conned off of someone, on the road to who knew where, her hand hanging out of the open window, feeling the hot wind beat against her palm, not really knowing what she was missing.

As an agent in the CIA, she'd been put into situations that were a lot worse than anyone could ever imagine. And yet, she continued to second guess herself with something that probably sounded simple to just about anyone else: sitting around a dinner table with people she liked, eating food that was going to be amazing because Ellie Bartowski had cooked it, enjoying herself… She could do all of that.

So why was it so hard for her to get out of her car now that she was sitting at the curb outside of their apartment complex?

Maybe it was the fact that today was about pretending everything was normal. And usually that was so easy for her. It was a massive part of her job. But it was so much easier to do around people she didn't know or like. And the current situation was absolutely the perfect example of shit hitting the fan.

Bryce Larkin wasn't just alive, he'd used Chuck as a human shield hostage to escape from the compound they'd been keeping him in. And because of course that wasn't enough, there was somebody from something called "Fulcrum" running around out there, someone Bryce had apparently been afraid of. Agent Bryce Larkin wasn't the type of guy who had fears. At one point in her life, in her career, she'd found that attribute attractive. She'd been younger and not as mature when that was the case. Now she just thought a lack of fear was akin to stupidity. But it was unnerving to know someone out there had gotten to Bryce the way that guy apparently had, according to Chuck.

With Bryce and that Fulcrum thing out there, she had to sit across from Chuck Bartowski at the dinner table and eat food like her stomach wasn't being smashed by a massive brick of stress. She had to go in there as if she was just a girl who worked at the Wienerlicious, enjoying Thanksgiving dinner at her boyfriend's apartment—as if said boyfriend wasn't in an insane amount of danger from what felt like a multitude of angles.

And because she didn't trust Bryce further than she could...what did Chuck call it... _Sparta kick_ him? ...Well, she found herself starting to wonder if her ex-partner had led this Fulcrum to Chuck, whether on purpose or not. She wasn't sure he was above it. And she didn't feel bad for thinking that after everything he'd done, even if he had initially been trying to protect Chuck at Stanford. That shit he pulled had been cruel in spite of his intentions.

She nearly jumped at the knock on her car window.

Looking up, she saw Morgan standing there waving at her excitedly. "Hey, you comin' in or should we bring the turkey out here to you?" he asked, muffled through the window, grinning in a friendly way.

Grinning back at him, pushing her nerves down and trying to focus on the task at hand, she grabbed the flowers she'd set on her passenger seat and let him move out of the way before she climbed out to tower over him. "Hi. Sorry. Ummm…"

Morgan had Anna in tow with him, and the woman had quite the sourpuss look on her face in spite of the polite smile she'd first sent her, and she supposed at least she had that part of the day to look forward to.

He smirked at Sarah. "Listen, you don't have to explain. We're a rambunctious group, the Bartowski-Grimeseses" he said, putting a hand on his chest modestly. "It's a lot to handle. You had to prep for it. I getcha. I mean, and then there's Ellie..." But he drifted off a bit, his eyes flicking to Anna as if realizing belatedly what he'd just done.

Morgan cleared his throat. "Should we go in?"

"No, please, Morgan," Anna said with a deadly sweetness. "Finish what you were saying."

"Uh, that's okay. Sarah? You first." He cleared his throat again and fidgeted, gesturing with his arm for her to head in before them.

Inwardly smirking, she thanked him and walked ahead of them through the courtyard. She heard Morgan mutter, "Can you please loosen your grip on my hand a bit, babe? I can't feel it."

And Anna's icy reply of, "Good."

Purposefully facing the door, her back to them, she let herself smile in amusement for a moment, then knocked.

In literally a moment, the door was whipped open, a stressed-looking, almost sheepish?...Chuck Bartowski standing there with a toothy grin. "Hey! Sarah! Oh, and here are Morgan and Anna. Great. Uh, come in, guys."

Sarah exchanged an amused look with him as she moved up to kiss his cheek in greeting, and Ellie was there, beaming. Sarah moved to hug her immediately. "These are for you. For, um, for hosting," she said as they pulled out of the hug, thrusting the flowers between their chests.

"That's so sweet, Sarah. Thanks. I'll have Devon put those in some water. He's in the kitchen."

Smiling with a nod, Sarah moved away, but not fast enough to miss the supremely awkward exchange of Chuck introducing Ellie to Anna. The way Anna pointedly introduced herself as Morgan's girlfriend through her teeth, poor Ellie's apparent confusion at the aggression.

God, she felt a little bad. Really, she did. But it was funny. These were such weird people.

As she moved towards the dining table, she saw Casey pop out from the kitchen in a nice suit which was almost a little sweet. She made a warm pouty face at him.

"What?" he grunted. "Why's everyone so surprised Ellie invited me to Thanksgiving?" He almost seemed offended. And wasn't he a wholesome picture, carrying potatoes with potholders out to the table? Wasn't all of this almost...wholesome?

Well, as wholesome as it could be, considering what a motley crew this was. A CIA agent, an NSA agent, a man with all of the government's secrets programmed into his brain, two surgeons, a Buy More salesman, and his Nerd Herd girlfriend…

It sounded like the beginning of a really complicated, probably terrible joke.

She thought if she ever wrote an autobiography, that could be the title: _A Really Complicated, Probably Terrible Joke_.

"Anybody want some booze?" Devon asked, coming out of the kitchen with the turkey...speaking of wholesome. She raised her hand just as Chuck sidled up next to her, his hand also shooting up. "There are my people, right there!" the blonde laughed, nodding his head towards them.

"I'll, uh, I'll get it. Sarah?" Chuck turned to face her, eyes wide. "We can put those flowers in water, huh?"

"Yes. Perfect." She met his wide eyes with a bit of a knowing look and followed him.

"Hey, no necking in the kitchen, kids. Food's almost on the table. Mangia mangia!" Devon called after them.

"Hah! Ha ha! Awesommmmmme. Yoooou," Chuck drawled, half pushing Sarah around into the kitchen with a forced grin at the other man's teasing. And the second they got into the kitchen, he dragged her to the fridge with him. "Want a beer?" he asked loudly. "Or, uh, wine? Sparkling wine?" And then much more quietly, he leaned in and said, "Thank God you're here."

"Why?" she asked, grabbing his arm. "Did something happen?"

"No. I mean, no no. Nothing like that. I'm-I'm just...I need everything to go right today. I just…" He huffed. "Every time everyone gets together like this, some...shit happens. It gets ruined. I've started almost...fearing get-togethers like this now. Like, what catastrophe is gonna happen to wreck my Thanksgiving?"

She put a hand on his chest and leaned in to pull the sparkling wine out of the fridge, handing him the beer she knew he wanted. He thanked her distractedly.

"Chuck, I get it. We don't have a great track record, but...please don't let everything that happened this week ruin this nice time with your friends and family. It's gonna go great. Well…" She winced, glancing out into the main room where Ellie was trying and failing to have a conversation with Anna. "As far as the spy stuff is concerned, at least. I'm not so sure Anna isn't going to attack Ellie like a viper at any moment."

"Morgan really screwed that up big time."

"He's kind of an idiot," she breathed.

"Um, I'd normally get super defensive but…" He popped the bottle of wine for her and poured it into a glass. "You're right."

She smirked at him. "Listen, just enjoy, okay? Let me and Casey fret about the other stuff for just today."

He opened his beer and skillfully tossed the cap behind him to land cleanly in the recycle bin someone had taken out for the party. Then he stuck his free hand in his jeans pocket, looking at her with one of his long, soft looks. "What if I was sort of hoping you'd be able to just enjoy today too?"

She met his eyes and smiled a little. When was the last time anyone wanted her to enjoy... _anything_?

Twisting her mouth to the side a little and nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't cheapen the moment, while also not encouraging him too much or showing just how much it meant to her that he'd said what he'd just said. And so sincerely.

"Hey, I said no necking!" Devon called out.

"Dinner's on the table," Ellie joined in, shoving the side of her boyfriend's head teasingly and giving him a look.

Chuck cleared his throat and left the kitchen, leaving Sarah to follow his retreat with her blue gaze, before she smiled and followed. Devon pulled her chair out for her with a "Sarah? Your seat, milady…"

Chuck sat across from her, Ellie to her left at the head where she was closest to the kitchen and Morgan at her right. Unfortunately, Anna was seated at the perfect angle across from Morgan so that she could glare between him and Ellie quite easily. Sarah inwardly winced.

"Uh, who would like to cut the turkey, huh?" Chuck blurted, his teeth showing as he grinned. She could see by the way his eyes kept flicking over at Anna that he'd seen the glare she was sending his sister. God, what _did_ Morgan say about him and Ellie? The little liar…

Sarah cleared her throat. "I can. If nobody else wants to."

Devon did one of his exuberant "Oh ho ho ho!"s and pointed at her. "Sarah doin' the honors!" He handed her the giant fork and the knife and she went to town, going around the table, taking orders for light and dark meat, before finally giving herself a good mix of both. And just like that, everyone began to eat.

It felt a lot easier to get into the moment, push thoughts of Bryce and Fulcrum out of her head, and just enjoy the food, she decided as the minutes passed. And she felt a genuine sense of something she couldn't place as Ellie set her hand on her shoulder and asked her to pass the green beans. She felt welcomed here in a way she hadn't felt welcomed anywhere else, maybe. Without pretending, or playacting. Without affecting some other personality. She was sitting across from a man who was pretending to be her boyfriend, sure, and vice versa. But there wasn't anything false in the way she sat there laughing at the stories of Buy More employees, giggling at Chuck asking Devon and Ellie about crazy patients as long as it wasn't a HIPAA violation. It felt real, even if it wasn't. And she clung to this strange sensation of finally being a part of a legitimate Thanksgiving—just like the ones in movies. Sure, this wasn't her family, but it was a group of people who genuinely liked one another. It was...nice.

"I'm in Heaven," Devon said during a short pause in the conversation.

"This is so good," Sarah chimed in, turning towards Ellie and sipping her sparkling wine.

"So good," Chuck added, mouth full. Everyone else agreed as Ellie held her hand up and smiled her thanks.

"Glad you all like it." She turned and looked at Sarah then, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "So Sarah, do you usually do Thanksgiving like this? We're a little...different from the usual thing you see on TV. Big giant family with the matriarch at the head of the table, four generations, all that corny stuff." She winced and shrugged.

Sarah pulled her lips back between her teeth and shrugged back, thoughtfully. "Um. Thanksgiving was never, um, a huge thing for me. I mean, our...family."

"No way," Devon said from across the table. She turned to look at him and nodded. "Wow. What'd you do instead?"

"Oh, just…" God, what did they do? She should've just lied, said they had big family Thanksgivings, four generations like Ellie said.

"Well, Sarah's traveled a lot," Chuck interrupted, and when she turned wide eyes to him, he cleared his throat. She noticed Casey was giving him a bit of a curious look, too. "I-I mean, right? Sarah? A lot of traveling, you, uh, you told me. Which meant a lot of really unconventional holidays." He took a drink from his beer as she narrowed her eyes a little at him.

"What he said," she finally murmured. "I don't do a lot of holidays. Never really...have."

"Which is why I'm glad she's here with us now," Chuck said with a small smile at her. "We're maybe a little unconventional, too, our little ragtag group of friends and neighbors, huh?" He put his silverware down and set one hand on Ellie's shoulder, the other on Casey's beside him, giving Casey an extra little squeeze, she noticed.

"Yeah, thanks for inviting me, Ellie," Sarah said, beaming at the older woman. "This is the first legitimate holiday dinner I've had in a while."

"Awww, so happy you could come, Sarah." Ellie's hand settled on her bicep. "Hope it lives up to your expectations."

Sarah giggled. "Oh, exceeded. I came in with no expectations whatsoever."

"Smart woman," Casey grunted, pointing at her with his knife. Then he shifted. "Ellie, what did you use to season the outside of the bird?"

Sarah blinked at the NSA agent, then shifted her gaze to meet Chuck's. He'd stopped mid-chew. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Oh! It's a turkey rub I got from an old recipe book my, um, my mom left me." Ellie swallowed thickly, but Sarah noted how her features didn't change, the friendly, welcoming look still in her pretty features. "I can copy it down for you if you want it."

"That'd be great, thanks."

"Okay!" Morgan clapped his hands together and let out a quiet burp. "You know what I want for my second plate?" He was already on his second plate? She glanced at his plate and saw he'd literally cleaned it off already. "I need critical side dish number two!"

Was he even speaking English? She turned to watch as Ellie reached to pick up the sweet potato dish, as if she was able to translate whatever the hell that meant and knew exactly which "critical side dish" he meant by "number two". It made Sarah wonder how often Morgan had been a staple at their holidays. She knew he and Chuck had been friends since they were kids, but was this their small extended family? Ellie, Chuck, and Morgan? To the point where Ellie understand his dorky exuberant language?

Sarah grabbed the dish from Ellie and handed it to Morgan, and he immediately dug in, only to freeze and frown down at the sweet potatoes. "Hold on. Hold the phone. Is it just me, or are there no marshmallows on my sweet potatoes?" He tilted the dish for Sarah to look. "Sarah, do you see marshmallows? Am I just missing it?"

"Uh, no. No marshmallows."

"It's Morgan's favorite number two side dish," Anna piped up, leaning forward and eyeing Ellie as though she'd just announced that she'd killed a kitten. "Thanksgiving is ruined!"

Ellie met Sarah's wide eyes with wide eyes of her own, then glanced back at the couple. "Um, I'm sorry...I must have...forgot? That's my bad."

Morgan pouted and set the dish down, looking legitimately heartbroken.

"Wait, no. No. That's...That's my bad," Chuck said, swallowing the food he'd just been talking around. "You had me pick those up and I did it. I just...they must've fallen out of the bag or something. They're in the Herder. I'll get 'em right now. Thanksgiving rescued. Don't worry, buddy." He pulled his napkin off of his lap and set it on the table.

"Don't be too long," Ellie said, looking like this whole thing didn't seem all that necessary in the first place because they were just stupid marshmallows. But Sarah'd been around for a few months now which was long enough for her to start to get the feeling that food things were the most important piece of Morgan Grimes' existence.

She watched as Chuck dashed out the door to get the marshmallows, into the courtyard, disappearing from her view. And she flicked her gaze over to see that Casey was watching, too. When he turned back to look at her, she wordlessly gave him a look, wondering if one of them should find a way to go with him. But he gave her a minute shake of his head. He was right. It would take Chuck two seconds. Right?

Right.

}o{

"Stupid freakin' marshmallows," Chuck grumbled to himself as he shut the door to the Herder and walked back into the courtyard. But a chill came over him before he could get back to his apartment door and he glanced up to see someone lurking in the shadows under the staircase. He froze and stepped back. "Shit, wha—?"

Bryce stepped out and he felt at least some sense of relief. For a second, he'd been terrified that Fulcrum guy had found him. "Hello, Chuck."

Anger swept through him as he remembered the last time he'd seen Bryce Larkin, he'd gotten a needle jammed into his arm and was drugged. Bastard. What was he doing here? Had he come for him?

"Sarah and Casey are right inside. One girlish scream from me and they go into combat mode," he rushed out. There was no way in hell he'd be taking this AWOL CIA agent by himself.

"This your place?" Bryce asked.

"I'm gonna scream right n—"

"Relax, man. Seriously. I'm not here to hurt you." Then he looked around. "You live here, huh?"

"Y-Yeah, I...do. With my sister. Yeah." He tried to insert an extra warning into his tone, into the hard look on his face. His family was here, too. It wasn't just him. And if Bryce did anything that would cause her harm…

"You...live with your sister, Chuck?"

Chuck clenched his jaw. "Really? You're gonna do that with that tone after what you did to ruin my life?"

"You were supposed to go places, Chuck. Do things. Be somebody. What happened?"

"Oh, I dunno. My plans sort of got derailed when you _got me kicked out of Stanford_ , you freaking asshole," Chuck snapped through a clenched jaw.

"Sorry about that, man. I'm actually here for Sarah." Chuck blanched. "I need to talk to her. Can you bring her to me?"

"No. No, I cannot. Fuck that. I'm not doing anything for you."

"Please. Dude, I'm begging. And without Casey."

"Why would I help you?" Chuck asked, in spite of seeing some genuine desperation starting to come to the surface in his old friend and recent nemesis.

"Because of Fulcrum, Chuck." A chill went down Chuck's spine. "That guy in the elevator? He works for them. And they want the Intersect. They want you." That chill ramped up to infinite. "So you're going to go inside, get your handler Agent Walker—not the guy who shot me, _please_ —and bring her out here...to me. This is important."

"And how am I supposed to do that, Bryce? We're having Thanksgiving dinner. We're eating some turkey!" he snapped. He was feeling especially irked by this now. Because he'd known something would fuck this meal up. He'd known. And Sarah told him it'd be fine and she was wrong. He was right. And God _damn_ , Bryce Larkin. He didn't want to put Sarah in the same space as Bryce again. He didn't like the idea of Bryce and Sarah talking over his head about this Fulcrum thing. And he didn't like not knowing what in the hell was going on when this so obviously concerned him and the supercomputer in his head.

Also, because he couldn't help it, he didn't like the idea of Bryce getting a one on one conference with Sarah. He was only human.

"Don't mean to interrupt the festivities, but do you want to know the truth about the Intersect? About why I left? Why all of this is happening? Fulcrum? Or do you want to finish your turkey?" Bryce snapped back. "Now get Sarah."

Chuck grit his teeth. "Fine. But only because I deserve an explanation. I'll get Sarah, but you're still gonna tell me everything. Capiche?"

Bryce let out a little smirk. "Capiche. I'll wait right here."

"No, you won't. That's a stupid idea. If I send Sarah outside, it'll look suspicious. As much as I hate to do this, I have to put you in my room." He rolled his eyes and shook his head, gesturing for Bryce to follow him to his window. "I swear, if you touch anything, I'll—"

Bryce let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm not going to touch anything. I just need to talk to Sarah, that's all."

"Yeah, whatever. Just get in my room and shut up."

The other man looked a little miffed with his tone, but Chuck thought a part of him probably understood why he was giving him the attitude. And he silently climbed inside of the window without so much as another peep.

Letting out a hissed curse, Chuck stomped back to the door and went inside, trying to control his features as best he could as he handed the marshmallows to Ellie and let her take the sweet potato dish away to finish the job.

"Aw, thanks Chuck. Thanks, Ellie. You two are the greatest," Morgan drawled, clasping his hands together.

Chuck just nodded silently and moved to sit at the table again, purposefully not looking at anybody. He felt a certain type of heat coming up from his collar, like somebody was pointing a hairdryer up at his chin from inside of his shirt. It was an angry heat, and there was some jealousy there, taking a backseat to the anger.

"I made this for you," he heard Anna say to Morgan, pushing some sort of dish closer to Morgan. He saw his friend dig into it out of the corner of his eye and he flattened his napkin on his lap again, picking up his fork.

Chuck felt Sarah's eyes on him and studiously ignored her. He needed to find a way to get her to his bedroom, but he wasn't going to do it without explicitly warning her about what she'd find when she got there. He wasn't letting her be surprised by that. Her ex-partner and ex...whatever thing they had. Damn, this sucked. This sucked a lot.

"Everything okay?" he heard her ask quietly across the table finally. He glanced at her for a second. She was staring at him through her eyelashes, leaning forward.

"Yeah, everything's...great." He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Oh, yeah. Great. Except for the fact that he'd been sure this night would crumble around his ears and Sarah erroneously reassured him it'd all be fine. She'd gotten his hopes up. Nothing was great. Everything was...un-great. It was crap.

It was also obvious she hadn't bought his response for even a moment.

Just then he heard Anna ask Morgan if he liked what she'd made. Chuck glanced over to see that Morgan was having a hard time swallowing whatever he'd just put in his mouth. And poor Anna looked so excited about it. Ooooh boy…

"Mmm's'good. So good," Morgan said around the food. God, if Morgan was having a hard time eating it…

"Does anyone else want some?" Anna asked, reaching for the dish.

"No."

"I'm good."

"Thank you, I'm stuffed."

"Nooo, no. Leave it, um, I mean you made it for Morgan, soooo…"

The rush of voices all coming at once made Anna sit back, eyes wide, confused.

And then Devon reached out to grab Casey's forearm as the latter went for the potatoes. "Oh, man...John, I knew this would be nice and taut, and I was right. I'm impressed. Thoroughly."

Casey turned to fully face the blonde and Chuck figured now was as perfect a time as any to take advantage of the NSA agent's distraction, silently thanking Captain Awesome for being such a weirdo.

"You work out?"

Casey grunted. "Work keeps me in shape.

"How many calories you think burn at the Buy More? Huh?"

"Uh. You tell me."

"About three-fifty an hour. Max…"

Chuck waited for Sarah's weirded out look to switch over to him, as though she was trying to share a moment with him. And God, he wished he could enjoy the inside joke with her. And screw Bryce Larkin for ruining that too, the bastard. He widened his eyes at Sarah and shook his head a little.

"What?" she mouthed, and he saw her go in full alert mode immediately. It was almost impressive.

"Bryce...Larkin...is...in my...bedroom," he mouthed, breathing the words just barely. In case she couldn't read his lips.

She mouthed, "fuck", and controlled her features, turning to smile at Ellie. "Excuse me…"

And just like that, she threw her napkin on the table and got up to head down the hallway, disappearing from sight.

}o{

Chuck's bedroom was dark. It had been months since she'd had Bryce as a partner, but she still knew how he operated. He liked to hide. And he thrived in the darkness.

She slowly crept inside of the room and went into the back of her pants for her gun now that she was out of the hallway and away from where one of Chuck's people might see the weapon.

But it was then that she heard him...somewhere behind her. She spun as she heard the thump, knowing he'd somehow held himself up over the door where she wouldn't think to look.

"Losing your touch? You're getting rusty," he said with a teasing smirk.

She felt something deep inside of her lurch at seeing him standing there again, alive and in one piece. Almost just as she'd remembered him—with that charming yet manipulative air about him. It didn't feel the same anymore though. She didn't trust him. She was pissed. And he could go fuck himself if he thought he could waltz in here and tease and flirt like they used to.

"Bryce, I have a gun."

"Oh, I know. You always do, Sarah." He smiled and there was affection in it. "And, what, like...fifteen knives, too? I know you."

"You don't know shit. I will put a bullet in you right now if I have to. Know that." Would she? Would she really shoot him? She thought she probably would at this point. If the Intersect was in danger. Who was she kidding? If Bryce pulled that shit with Chuck again, she'd shoot her old partner dead to protect him. Not just because he was her asset. That was the truth.

Bryce held his hands up quickly. "I'm not armed, Sarah. Believe me. I don't mean anyone harm here. I just want to talk to you." Why? "I need to say...that I'm sorry."

She just stared at him. "That means absolutely nothing to me."

"I-I know. I don't blame you. It must've looked to you like I'd betrayed the agency, my country...you."

"It didn't _look_ that way, Bryce. You did betray all of those things. Least of all, me. Don't waste your breath apologizing to me. That's the person you should apologize to," she hissed, pointing at the door Bryce had pushed closed just enough that it was still open a crack.

"I haven't gotten that far yet."

"So that's it? You crawled into Chuck's bedroom to tell me you're sorry? Now what?" she snapped, careful not to raise her voice in spite of the mounting fury inside of her.

"He let me in here so I could talk to you." She highly doubted that. Chuck had a habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt, even when they sometimes didn't deserve it. But she didn't think Chuck would just let Bryce Larkin of all people into his bedroom just because he asked him to. She gave Bryce a dubious look and he let out a frustrated huff. "I told him I'd explain everything if he let me talk to you. And that's what I intend to do, Sarah."

That made more sense. He'd used Chuck's innermost desire to know more about the Intersect and figure out how to get it out of his head to force him to let him inside to talk to her. She couldn't blame Chuck at all for it.

"First, give me one reason why I shouldn't just arrest you right now."

"Because I didn't go rogue, contrary to what you might think." Sarah frowned. "The Intersect was a mission. An order I was given. Straight from the top."

"You still haven't given me a reason why I shouldn't—"

"Because, Sarah...you still care about me." He stepped closer as he said it, a mere foot away from her, lowering his chin, making his eyes do that thing...God, he used to really get her when he did that with his eyes. They churned with sincerity and warmth, a tinge of mischief.

She didn't know what to say as he moved in a bit closer. And then he tenderly cupped her face in his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek just like he used to do in those intimate moments that were burned so unfortunately into her brain. She felt the heat of his body as he leaned in.

And then she grabbed his wrist up by her face and yanked down, spinning him to face away from her and twisting his arm hard behind his back so that he was forced to his knees, grunting in pain.

"Your actions made certain that any amount of care I might've had for you back then is virtually nonexistent," she ground out through a clenched jaw, leaning over him and twisting his arm harder.

"Virtually?" he asked. She twisted his arm so hard she knew a snap would be the next thing and it'd come right out of its socket. "Ahhh...ahh...O-Okay okay. I really wasn't expecting this to be your reaction."

"What, you thought I'd let you kiss me? After everything that you did? You're charming, Bryce Larkin. And really, really good at being manipulative, at getting what you want. And I was fine with that once upon a time because it fit with what I wanted. I might've even thought it was cute. But it isn't cute anymore." She shoved him face first into the ground and let go of his arm. "I'm not the only one who's rusty," she hissed.

Sarah had to take a deep breath now, stepping back from him, keeping her eyes on his hands to make sure he didn't go for a weapon while he was hunched over trying to get some feeling back into his arm as he slowly climbed up to his feet.

"All right, then, Sarah. We can table that for the time being…" He suddenly became serious as he straightened up and looked at her. There was no mischief. "I wanted Chuck to bring you to me because I need your help. I can't do this alone anymore."

"Should've thought about that before maybe."

"I didn't—"

There were loud footsteps pounding down the hallway then and she knew them inherently to be John Casey's. Shit. She was just starting to get some actual information, too.

She spun to face Bryce. "Look, I need you to stay put, okay? Do not run. Please."

Bryce's eyes burst wide as the door swung open and Casey stepped in, gun up and ready. Sarah swung around and put her hands on Casey's chest. "No, Casey! I've got this under control! He's—"

But Casey half-shoved her out of the way and went after Bryce as the freaking coward dove out of the window into the courtyard. Casey leaned out of the window and let out a "Shit!" before pulling back in and glaring at her.

She felt Chuck's presence at her side then as he staggered into his bedroom.

"Nice work, CIA," Casey groused. That was pretty unfair, and she glared right back at him.

"Hey!" Chuck whispered harshly, slamming his door shut. "No guns at Thanksgiving."

But Casey was already climbing through the window out into the courtyard. Sarah rolled her eyes and stomped after him, swinging one leg out and then following with the rest of her body. Chuck was hot on her heels.

As her new partner checked the nooks and crannies in the courtyard, Sarah moved to the gate and looked out into the street, Chuck choosing to come with her. "What happened?" he asked.

"He ran when the guy who shot him the first time burst into the room. That's what happened. And I'd almost gotten him to talk, too."

"Wait. Talk? Did he tell you anything?"

"No. Someone interrupted," she snapped, gesturing at Casey as he started striding through the courtyard towards them.

Just then, Anna stormed out of the apartment door, looking like she might murder someone...and as Morgan followed after her with a sorry "Come onnnnn, Anna Bananaaaa," following her out through the gate and most likely to her car, Sarah thought he was that someone who would end up murdered.

"He's gone," Casey snapped. "Call it in from my place. I'll check out the back." Then he hurried off again.

Sarah huffed and led Chuck towards Casey's apartment. "How did Casey find out?" she asked him over her shoulder.

"I made a rash decision."

Everything clicked and she turned to face him, raising her chin to stand as tall as she was physically capable of while in front of a man who was six feet four inches tall. "You saw Bryce try to kiss me, didn't you?"

"Um. Do you think you can teach me that move sometime? It was really speedy and effective and…"

"Chuck," she snapped.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't sure if you'd need backup. Stupid, I know. You could handle it, but it felt like it could potentially get dangerous. You know? Like if Bryce got mad and tried to attack you and had some hidden weapon…"

She shut her eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wondered if there wasn't jealousy there, too. In spite of his seeing her turn Bryce's attempted kiss into an ass-whooping. Bryce had been so close to telling her what he needed her help with. And Chuck's jealousy and protectiveness had screwed it up.

Probably as a way to save his own skin, Chuck turned away from her and rushed to Casey's apartment, but then he froze in front of the window, the blue light streaming through the blinds, and he dashed back to her side. She was already stepping out of her flats as he asked, "Sarah, why is someone in Casey's apartment?" he asked, his voice low.

"Sh," she warned, slinking past the windows towards the door. "Stay here," she breathed over her shoulder and he nodded quickly.

As silently as she could, she eased Casey's door open and stepped into his entryway, looking across the room to see the back of Bryce Larkin, hunched over a computer, tapping away at something.

She reached behind and actually got her gun out this time, slowly lifting it to point at her ex-partner's back.

There was a gasp behind her, and she knew Chuck had followed when she'd explicitly told him not to. And now Bryce knew too, because he spun to face her with his own gun out, pointing it at her in a mimicry of what she was doing.

"Put it down, Bryce," she demanded.

Bryce didn't look like he was going to listen, she thought. There was an ache in him as he looked at her, though. Like he didn't want to be in this spot, like he was genuinely trying to reach out to her. And fuck her stupid conscience for listening to him when the rest of her was willing it not to.

"Sarah…" Chuck breathed.

"Close the door, Chuck," Bryce snapped. And what right did he have to use that tone with Chuck? He was the one who'd screwed Chuck over, not the other way around. Bastard.

"Okay," Chuck said, his voice shaking. "Okay, okay, okay, okay…I'm closing the—closing the door. I'm walking into...the apartment...Please do not shoot. Do not shoot me. Do not shoot Sarah. Do not shoot anything."

He was unraveling. She could tell. She could hear it. But he did shut the door.

"I need you to listen to me," Bryce said, slowly shifting across the room. Sarah shifted with him, reaching back to grab whatever part of Chuck she could grab onto and pulling him with her so that she was shielding him still.

"Just put it down," she said.

"The Intersect was a mission. I was recruited by an outfit called Fulcrum. That's a special access group inside the CIA."

That was preposterous. Insane. "You're lying," she spat. "We would know that."

And then, she thought, maybe she wouldn't know that. And it stung to realize it. Casey had been the one who told her about the Intersect, about what it did, what it was for. Director Graham didn't feel the need to read her in on any of it. Why? She still didn't know. Now she was wondering just how much Graham knew about Fulcrum.

"They knew who I was, my activation codes, my record. They ordered me to shed my agency contacts and go deep. Only then did I realize it was an internal strike to download and destroy the Intersect." He clenched his jaw. "They used me. Manipulated me into thinking I was on the right side. But I figured it out pretty quick. Fulcrum had their own plans for the intel in the Intersect."

"You really expect me to trust you, Bryce? If you were recruited by Fulcrum, who's to say you aren't just trying to get the Intersect back for them now?" She tightened her grip on Chuck's shirt, twisting the material in her fist to make sure he continued to stay behind her. It wasn't lost on anyone in the room that he _was_ the Intersect. That he was what Fulcrum was after.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Sarah."

"Drop the shit, Bryce. This isn't about me. Stop making it about me."

"I didn't know who to trust. That's why I didn't tell you. That's why I just left."

She was tired of him acting like what they had was more than what it was. Like they had the romance of the century, a great love torn asunder by the spy world. Maybe he'd been more serious about it than she'd been, but she doubted it. He was still trying to tap into the connection they did have. She had appreciated him as a partner. They'd had a wicked partnership in the field. They'd been so good as a spy team. But he'd ditched out on that. Could she really expect him to trust her more than he had? She hadn't trusted _him_ in that way.

"Why Chuck?" she asked. "You didn't know who to trust, but you trusted Chuck?"

"That-That's a really good question," Chuck piped up over her shoulder. "I'd like to know that as well."

Bryce finally lowered his gun, shaking his head. "All these years, Chuck's been the only loyal friend I've had. And most importantly, I'd made sure he was kept out of all of this. The spy world. I needed someone who wasn't a spy, someone...who isn't just a civilian, but someone who'd automatically do the right thing if it came down to it." He huffed, rolling his eyes a little at himself. "At the end of the day, I knew you wouldn't know about Fulcrum, Chuck. Or the Intersect. Or Sand Wall."

There was a pause and then an intake of breath behind her.

"Sand Wall. Sand Wall… Operation Sand Wall. That-That was the name of the mission. The Intersect mission. Sarah, I think he's telling the truth."

She turned to look at Chuck as he blinked away the effects of what had to be a flash. She asked anyway. "Did you flash?"

"Yeah," he breathed, nodded and meeting her gaze as she looked back at him. "Everything he said is in there."

"I'm not rogue," Bryce repeated.

Sarah turned back and clenched her jaw, eyeing him dubiously. And then she slowly lowered the gun to her side. She was actually starting to believe that. Chuck's flash had helped. But she kept him in her grip just in case, making sure he was still behind her.

Before she could make Bryce clarify even more, though, the door to the apartment opened behind Bryce where he'd shifted during their short stand-off. Casey stepped inside and she felt her heart leap into her throat as he turned and saw Bryce.

Without thinking twice, he lifted his gun and pointed it at Bryce who spun to face him, hands up in surrender.

"CASEY, NO!" Chuck yelled, lurching forward, nearly knocking her over in the process.

But Casey squeezed the trigger, the bullet slamming into Bryce's chest and sending him crashing onto his back, completely limp.

She blinked down at the body, unable to breathe for a moment, and then she heard a loud thump behind her. She spun to see that Chuck had fainted and was just as limp on the ground. It was a grotesque sight, the two men who'd been important in her life for two very different and yet connected reasons, lying there unmoving, like the puppeteer had cut the strings holding them up.

But as she knelt at Bryce's side and yanked his shirt open, she saw the bullet had lodged in the bullet-proof vest he'd smartly donned before undertaking tonight's foolish errand. Thank God. She moved to Chuck's side as she pointed for Casey to tend to the man he'd just tried to kill again.

"He's not a rogue spy, Casey. He just explained everything and Chuck flashed to confirm he's telling the truth."

"Oh. Well. My bad, I guess."

She rolled her eyes at him as he went over to Bryce who seemed to be starting to come to. Chuck was still out cold. She put a clammy hand on his neck and rubbed up to his jaw, lightly patting his cheek. "Come on, Chuck. Wake up."

He lurched a bit and slowly blinked his eyes open, looking woozy. He went pale as his brown eyes latched onto Bryce's body. But as Bryce started to move, letting out a pained groan, Chuck pushed himself up a bit and set his confused gaze to his old friend's face. "Wha…?"

"Bullet-proof vest," she explained, helping him sit up. "You okay?"

"Just...my pride," he breathed, clearing his throat as he leaned back against Casey's cabinet, letting out a relieved sigh. "Bryce? You okay?" he asked in a bit louder of a voice.

"You really just come into rooms and shoot people like that, Casey?" Bryce groaned as the NSA agent yanked him to sit up a lot less gently than she'd just done with Chuck.

"Yeah. Especially when they're traitorous scum."

"I'm not traitorous scum," he groused. "If you'd waited a minute for any one of us to explain that…"

"I don't like to wait, assmunch," Casey growled.

"Maybe you should've aimed for my head…"

"Maybe I still can…"

"Stop it!" Sarah snapped over her shoulder. She was sick of the macho-off between the two of them. Then she turned back to Chuck and grabbed him by his bicep. "Can you stand now?" When he nodded, she helped him to his feet, making sure he didn't sway or go cross-eyed before she let go of him and helped Casey get Bryce to his feet. She got to work on Bryce's vest, ignoring his smirk as she helped him shrug all of it off, leaving him bare-chested.

She couldn't help but notice he'd lost weight—whether it was his injury from Casey shooting him the first time and recuperating, or whatever else happened with Fulcrum, she didn't know, but a part of her deep down felt some sympathy for him.

She made Bryce sit in a chair and handed him ice that she made Casey retrieve from his freezer, wincing inwardly at the horrible welt on the not-rogue agent's chest from Casey's bullet. Chuck wandered over finally and stood beside his old friend, the man who'd essentially ruined his life, and looked down at him with no trace of bitterness or even animus. Instead, he just looked confused.

"I don't get it, Bryce. How are you even alive still?"

Sarah kept her gaze on Chuck, the way his voice was quiet, tired. He looked beaten down again, and she spared a thought for the fact that he'd been so sure his Thanksgiving would be ruined. He was right. And now Ellie and Devon were probably just sitting there with a table full of cold food wondering where in the hell everyone had gone to. They'd have some explaining to do. But they'd have to come up with something later, when an escaped CIA prisoner who might get them all into a shit ton of trouble wasn't sitting here, bringing back an entire mess of memories and feelings and just...crap. On top of some potentially severe implications for the safety of democracy as they knew it.

"You mean how'd Fulcrum keep me alive?" He caught a T-shirt Casey tossed him and slipped it on over his bare torso. Which was good. Because she was a straight woman and she'd forgotten how fit Bryce was. As much as there wasn't a lot of remaining attachments between her and Bryce, she didn't need his body on display that much when he had a lot of explaining to do. "I don't really know. I was in and out for most of it, but mostly out. Probably used one of the European clinics. I don't remember any of it."

Sarah narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "You know why they did it…" It wasn't a question.

Bryce turned and gave her a long look, almost as if he was studying her, trying to gauge where she stood with him, if he had any sort of ally in the room, if _she_ was his ally in the room. She wanted to tell him to look elsewhere. In spite of everything he'd done, Chuck was probably the closest thing he had to an ally here. Even if he wasn't rogue and was actually on the level with this. He nodded at her. "Yeah."

"Well, should I pop some popcorn or beat the answer out o' ya?" Casey snarled, a small smirk on his face.

"No, thanks," Bryce snarked back. "I'll talk."

"Darn it."

This was even more annoying than the bickering Casey and Chuck got up to. At least the machismo only went in one direction with those two. With Bryce and Casey, it was a two way street, and it was insufferable.

"You know the first part already. I downloaded the Intersect intel, sent it to Chuck, and blew up the computer. Raced out of the DNI. Then I ran into you, Casey." He shot Casey a meaningful look and got a pleased look out of the NSA agent. "So I'm on the ground. No white light, just Casey staring down at me. I lost consciousness and was out for who knows how long? I don't know how I got where I came to, but there was a lot of pain, people hovering over me. They brought me back from what had to be the brink of death, but they weren't trying to save me. No, this was a Fulcrum team. I recognized one of them. I knew I was in deep shit but there was nothing I could do about it." She thought she saw a shiver go through him and she felt a chill go down her own spine. "They wanted something. The guy you saw in the elevator, Chuck," he said, turning back to look up at him. "He was there. He asked me where the Intersect files were. He was desperate for an answer. And I knew that no matter what happened, I couldn't tell him what I actually did with them, where they actually went."

Bryce turned and looked up at her then. "I told him I downloaded them. That I'm the Intersect. To save Chuck."

She took a slow breath and met his gaze. Was he looking for some kind of credit? From her in particular? She didn't reveal anything of her thoughts in her face, prompting him to turn back to Chuck again.

"Fulcrum thinks _you're_ the Intersect," Chuck said, frowning. She searched his face, hoping to God she didn't see any guilt there. It would be just like him to feel guilty, and she refused to let him take any of that on himself. He didn't have any kind of choice here. And Bryce did exactly what he should've done in that situation, exactly what any agent who valued their country would do in that situation. That sacrifice was part of the job.

"Yeah. And they kept me alive, brought me back, so that they could take it out of me. They have no control over the Intersect, over the files, if it's all in my head." He shrugged. Just like the CIA and NSA couldn't control the Intersect while Chuck had it in his head. There was probably a team of analysts and scientists right now, quarantined away in some underground lab, trying to figure out how to extract the Intersect from Chuck's brain. She inwardly shivered.

"That's why I need your help," Bryce continued. "I need to turn myself in to the CIA, but Fulcrum has operatives in every agency." There went that chill again. "I need to know that I'm being handed over to the _real_ CIA."

"I can do that," Chuck said immediately. Sarah swung her gaze up to him and stared, but his own eyes were fastened on Bryce. "I can do that. I-I can be there at the transfer. And if I flash on whoever they send, I can figure out if they're part of Fulcrum. That's how this thing works. I think. I flashed on the elevator guy, after all. And if I don't flash on 'em, you're on your way home."

Sarah had a million misgivings. But now wasn't the time to say that. Not here. So she nodded. "That should work." When Chuck finally met her gaze, she sent him a significant look. "Smart, Chuck."

The slow, almost surprised, typically warm smile Chuck sent her at that made her acutely aware of Agent Larkin's eyes boring a hole in her. She pointedly did not look at him. She didn't want to even think about what might be going through his head. Because she knew how observant the jerk could be. And she also knew he had a tendency to jump to conclusions. None of them needed that right now.

"They still need a place where the transfer can go down, public place, lots of people," Casey spoke up.

Chuck narrowed his eyes and it was light a lightbulb went off over his head. "Public spot... Lots of witnesses. I know a place."

Sarah Walker frowned.

Oh God, no.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews, we like them a lot.

-SC and DC


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N:** *reads reviews* How long toward Charah? Huh...aren't we kinda there? SC? BTW, find something to hold on to, because SC is determined to kill you all with a few lines in this one. I was faint from the vapors.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck. We don't make money from writing this story.

* * *

Sarah sat on Casey's couch watching two monitors at once. She could feel herself being watched.

"I know you've got one hundred jokes, but now is not the time for them," Sarah said, not meaning to sound harsh, but knowing she did.

"I agree," Casey replied. Sarah turned to him. "Too many damn things aren't making sense, Walker. You ever heard of tech that brings a man back from the dead? Because I killed his ass...no offense."

"I think he would take more offense to that than I would," Sarah replied. Casey shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. He brought her hers, already fixed the way she liked it. He was the absolute best partner she'd ever had if she was honest. She and Bryce were like a well oiled machine in the field, but there was the constant head butting with Bryce over field ops. Casey was an expert, but he conceded to anyone with a better plan, including Chuck.

"You ever heard of a computer going in someone's brain?" Casey had to give her that one.

"There is one person I trust in the CIA," Casey said, making Sarah grin at him. "And you don't know shit about what is going on." She tried to give him a flat look but he wasn't wrong. Casey stood there a moment, uncomfortable.

"Say it, Casey, whatever it is."

"If we screw this up tomorrow and lose Larkin, it's gonna mess that kid up."

"When you say lose…"

"If they get to him, killing him…." Casey trailed off and shrugged.

"Do you have orders to…" she trailed off, not able to finish that thought.

"No, but...it's your call, Walker."

She knew what the call should be. She knew what Bryce would do, she knew what Casey would do. If they lost Bryce, and they had a shot, to protect Chuck, they should take Bryce out. That was the mission, protect the Intersect. She looked at Chuck sitting on his bed, worry on his face. She sighed and shook her head.

"Hell, Walker," Casey mumbled.

"You knew what I'd say," Sarah said spinning toward Casey. "I'm not the only one here who's compromised."

Casey shook his head. "I won't tell if you won't." Sarah threw her head back and laughed. The past twenty-four hours had been absolute hell. She looked at the monitor where Chuck was sitting on his bed. Okay, maybe not absolute hell….

"Get some rest, Walker, you've been through it, and we both know you've got more to get through tomorrow."

}o{

Chuck was helping customers after hearing a less than encouraging speech from Big Mike. He had to get this right, or Bryce could get killed. Or Casey….or Sarah…. He couldn't think about that. He was starting to understand what Casey meant about feelings and friends in this job. For some reason it made him feel more for her. More pride, more...he wasn't going to say it. God, this SUCKED. What if Sarah went back with Bryce? That wasn't fair to her, she deserved to work with a partner she trusted, and Bryce wasn't that guy. Not that he was the jerk they both thought he was, but he had broken her trust. For her sake if she had to go back, he really hoped that they could trust each other. He wasn't going to think about anything else where they were concerned, he couldn't and not have a stomach ache.

He was directing traffic when Sarah's voice cut through his thoughts telling him they were on their way in. He looked up at the entrance and immediately saw Sarah and Bryce. It was showtime. He was gonna do this for Bryce, because Bryce, for all his bullshit, had tried to keep him safe, like a friend would. It was then Chuck saw it and he couldn't do anything to stop it. Morgan was there, standing off to the side, and it was obvious he had recognized Bryce. He walked right up to him, shocked and upset, and they interacted for a minute until Anna pulled Morgan away, thank God.

"The CIA pickup is here. Chuck do your pass," he heard in his ear.

He took off, feeling the eyes of his team on him. He studied the two men, trying to force himself to flash on them, then he realized he needed to be cool and let the flash happen naturally. Nothing. And then he realized how he had been looking at them, and gave a, "Hi, welcome to Buy More." The two CIA agents walked off, giving him a look like he was an idiot.

"Hey." Nerves were shooting through him. "Hey, hey, hey, Nothing happened. Nothing happened. There were no flashes, so the CIA guys are legit." He blew out a sigh of relief.

He looked over and saw Bryce standing by the TVs. Chuck realized he might never see Bryce again and some things needed to be said. Chuck might never get another chance if he didn't. He walked over to him.

"Excuse me, sir, can I help you?" he said to Bryce.

"Yes, thank you. These HD screens almost look like the real thing," Bryce said, glancing at Chuck.

"Yeah, they do, huh?" Chuck replied, not sure how to start this.

"You know, I didn't mean to offend you, last night...about living with your sister. Sarah told me about your team, what you've done together."

"And you're still the superspy, right?" Chuck said turning to him, smirking. Damn it, this wasn't how this was supposed to go.

"Chuck, I said your team." Chuck stared at him. "Not Sarah's or Casey's, yours. If you were just an asset, Sarah wouldn't have an eye on you like that while I was eating breakfast. By the way, did you know Casey could make such amazing eggs?"

"You should have his quiche," Chuck replied, falling back into the old back and forth they used to have.

Bryce grinned at him. "It's your team, but more importantly, me being a superspy...it's nothing." Bryce studied him a second, getting serious. "I've got one friend in this world. You've got a home and a store full of them."

Chuck was silent for a second. "You do," he said. Bryce's face was full of shock. "You have me, and you need to remember that. You also need to remember that your friend likes to make his own decisions."

"Chuck, I couldn't—"

"Save it, Buddy," he said gently, with a smile. "We don't have time for this, you gotta get out of here." Chuck extended his hand. Bryce shook it.

He let his hand go. "You know you wanna hug me," Bryce replied, smirking.

"You're pushing it," Chuck said. "So what happens now, Bryce? You just disappear all over again?"

"That's what I do well," Bryce replied. "Thanks, Chuck. For everything."

"You know where to find me. Maybe send an email every now and then, just not the ones that give me a headache."

"Chuck," he began.

"I know, I know, but Bryce, you do, you have a friend...and you're welcome."

"You do wanna hug me," Bryce repeated, the cock sure grin on his face.

"I do," Chuck replied. "But it might blow the cover."

Sarah appeared between them. "I'm taking him in, Chuck. You stay here."

"Right," he said. There was something in the way she looked at him. "Hey, stay safe."

She gave him a look, and a smile. "I will."

"Sarah, I mean it. Stay safe," he repeated. There'd been something in her tone, like she'd just automatically said the thing you say when someone tells you to stay safe. But he needed her to hear him. Really hear him.

She stared at him and started to speak. "Sarah, we gotta go," Bryce said.

She nodded, walking away, looking over her shoulder at him.

Chuck stared after her with a soft gaze, just watching her go.

Casey came up to him. "Kid—"

"I know. Stay in the store, Chuck. Don't fall for your handler, Chuck. Be a good asset, Chuck." Chuck looked at him. "I guess it's time I start trying to do all those things, right? I need to go do my job here. Let me know if they need anything." He looked at them as they left the Buy More. "Not that they will."

}o{

The first five minutes in the car were mercifully silent. She'd been expecting him to pull a Bryce and immediately try to talk her into...something. She didn't quite know what because she couldn't read him. She never really could read him. And it hadn't unsettled her until recently—since he'd come back, actually. Maybe he was going to try to make her forgive him. Because he would never just come right out and ask for forgiveness like someone without his overblown ego might do. He'd just try to talk her into it. Manipulate her into it.

But he was quiet instead. And the backseat was filled with tension through all of it.

Chuck had given her a strange look when she walked away from him to take Bryce in. She didn't understand it, but she hadn't had time to really think about it because she and Bryce climbed into the back of this car and were whisked away.

How in the hell did they get here? Her ex-partner had been dead not even a week earlier. What the fuck?

"Are we good?"

Sarah inwardly cursed at the sound of his voice. At least it wasn't some forgiveness crap. Well, it sort of was, wasn't it? She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the cars behind them, like she'd been doing for the last five minutes. None of them seemed familiar, none of them set off warning bells. "Yeah. We're clear," she said then, turning back, hoping that was the end of that.

"No," he said seriously, and she glanced at him. "Us."

She frowned, holding his gaze for a while, too long probably. "You say 'us' like this was something big, Bryce."

He didn't seem bothered by the insinuation. Instead he shrugged. "Maybe it was, though. I mean, compared to everything else in this life, in this world, two spies finding each other the way we did? It is kinda big. Maybe it wouldn't be to...regular people. But for people like us...?"

Sighing, Sarah nodded minutely. "You might have a point there."

And even if he did have a point there, even if their relationship had been a good one...in the context of the life they both lived...it was tainted now. Spoiled.

"Come back with me."

She turned and stared at him. Was he serious? After everything he'd done, after he'd refused to trust her, after she'd thought he betrayed his country, after she'd thought he'd been killed, and with everything Chuck now had to deal with because of his actions… he was asking her to leave her mission behind and go...she didn't even know where...with him?

And, what, stand by at Langley waiting for him to be exonerated and reassigned, or perhaps even arrested? Maybe he was the one who'd end up locked away in a bunker somewhere for his actions. Or maybe he was going to be sent on some deep cover mission. And what then? _Hey, Director, so I abandoned my last assignment to be with my not-boyfriend-ex-partner, can you put me on assignment with him? Thanks._

That wasn't how real life worked. That wasn't how this business worked. They wouldn't give a fuck who did or didn't want to be with this agent, or that agent, and even if love was involved for a couple in the spy game—which was surely rare anyway because nobody had time for that—the agency wouldn't jump through hoops to accommodate that. Especially not for Presumed Traitor Agent Bryce Larkin.

What was he smoking?

But more importantly…

"I have my assignment," she explained, shaking her head. And she thought that should really be the only thing she had to say.

Bryce just kept smiling at her, that knowing glint in his eyes. He was still attractive and it bothered her that she couldn't help admitting it to herself, even silently, deep down inside. "You were never good at this." She furrowed her brow in question, hearing the knowing but teasing thread in his voice. "The whole saying what you're feeling part."

Neither was he. And that was why she had sex with him in the first place. No damn feelings. No running their mouths. Just sex. She couldn't help the smirk, and she flicked her eyes over at him. "Neither of us ever really talked much."

Bryce gave her that look that he used to give her when they were alone after a mission had gone well, the one that made her gladly crawl into bed with him back then. But when he leaned in to kiss her, she lifted a hand to stop him…

And she didn't see the SUV speeding towards their car until the shiny grilles slammed through Bryce's window.

}o{

Chuck walked up to the Nerd Herd desk, lost in his thoughts. "Excuse me, can I get some service?" he heard the man in front of him ask. He raised his head and saw the man who he had seen talking to Bryce in the elevator. OH, SHIT! "You're Charles Bartowski, aren't you? We met the other day."

Chuck froze. He hoped this meant Sarah and Bryce got away. He really hoped that. "Did we? So how, how can I, uh... How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a computer." He said with a shrug. "You might be familiar with this one, it's called the Intersect." Chuck gulped. "You don't seem to understand the situation, Charles. You think that all these witnesses are a guarantee that nothing's gonna happen to you? You couldn't be more wrong."

Chuck had to do something. Stalling seemed best. "I, I am so slammed right now. It's really busy. So I should probably get back to work."

"My team reacquired Bryce Larkin and Sarah Walker five minutes ago. I have seven trained killers stationed throughout the store. If you look over there.." Chuck did and saw Casey surrounded. "You can also see that my men have neutralized Mr. Casey. See, here's the thing, Charles. Nothing stops me from fulfilling my orders….innocents...civilians." He gave a shrug. "If you make me, I'll execute every last person in this place."

Chuck was sure he was going to die, so there was no sense in getting anyone else hurt. The past few days had been especially shitty. He and Sarah had fought a few nights ago, and he had found courage then when he thought he was going to die. He needed to summon that same courage. His only chance to save himself, Sarah, and Bryce was to cause this guy to make a mistake. He had an idea, and it was a supremely bad idea, but an idea it was.

"Wow," Chuck said as he was being moved to where the Fulcrum agent wanted him. "Did you have to go to cheesy dialogue school?"

"What do you mean?" The Fulcrum agent asked, stopping.

Chuck turned toward him. "How am I supposed to address you?"

"Tommy," he replied. Chuck shook his head and grinned. "What?" Tommy was looking around, and staring at Chuck, confused. If Chuck had to guess he was wondering why this guy was being brave?

"Every. Single. Time," he said, emphasizing each word. "You bad guys tell your plans, you give your name, you threaten, and how does it work out?" Chuck quickly raised his hands, praying they wouldn't tremble. "I know, I know, you could kill everyone in here, but let me ask you something, Tommy." Tommy leaned close. "Do you have me….or do I have you?"

Tommy looked at him for a minute, like he was considering what Chuck was saying, and then he laughed in Chuck's face.

"Chuck," Jeff yelled, running up to him in a panic. "Chuck, the registers are down. I can't get them back up. What should I do?"

"You say more than one word and I'll kill him right here," Tommy whispered.

Chuck turned to Jeff, the ultimate idea in his head. And if it didn't work, he and the Buy More would go out with a bang. "Pineapple." Jeff's eyes widened and he darted off.

"Let's go," Tommy said, pushing him. Chuck walked slowly, and then he heard the bullhorn kick on and Morgan's voice filled the Buy More.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have an emergency. I need everyone to leave the store in an orderly fashion." He paused, and then said the magic words. "Anna. Pineapple."

Bedlam hit. Chuck got away from Tommy, only to be bodily picked up and shoved under Casey's arm, promptly carried into the home theater room. Casey tossed him down, while pulling out a cellphone. "Code black. Hostiles in the Buy More. I need a containment team right away." He pressed something on the bottom of the table and the top slid back, containing a small armory.

"Are you kidding me?" Chuck asked. "Some kid could find this, or Morgan."

Casey pulled a weapon out and looked up at him. "That's why we didn't tell you the code." Chuck made a ha-ha face. "Stay down, Chuck. This is when the shooting starts." Casey looked quite excited, which would have scared the shit out of Chuck, but he had been past having the shit scared out of him ten minutes ago.

"Right... right now?" he asked, ducking for cover. Bullets began to fly and Chuck ducked under the table. He knew Casey would give him hell later for the terrified sounds he was making, but if he lived through this, he would gladly accept all mocking. The bullets quit flying and Chuck chanced peeking out from behind his safe space. They were back. Sarah and Bryce were back and had joined the fray.

They quickly took out several of the thugs and Chuck saw the two of them turn face to face, the smirks evident on both of their faces.

They looked perfect together. They looked the way two spies were supposed to look. They looked like they belonged together. They turned so that they were back to back again, and the significance wasn't lost on Chuck.

Chuck and Sarah were the cofounders of the Bryce Larkin is an Asshole club. He and Bryce had made up earlier, and Sarah obviously trusted Bryce enough to fight back to back with him. Bryce had done it, he had come back from the dead, and made up with the two people in his life that probably meant the most to him. Bryce always did get all the best girls.

In that moment, Chuck knew. He knew he wasn't enough. It was his biggest fear come true. It didn't matter about bunkers, or anything else, he would never be able to compete with Bryce Larkin.

A hand grabbed him from behind and pulled him away. " Come on, Chuck, let's go," Casey insisted.

"I'm really getting sick and tired of being pulled around by you all the time," Chuck muttered getting hauled through the door. That was when Tommy hit Casey in the face with his gun, knocking Casey out.

He heard Sarah's voice then, the determined tone of voice she always used when she was in full spy mode. "Where's Chuck?" she asked as Tommy dragged him out to the middle of the aisle.

"Over here," Tommy answered.

There was a look on Sarah's face that Chuck didn't recognize. Was it...worry? Fear? Outright anger? A mixture? "Let him go... Now," she ordered, as she and Bryce both drew their guns and pointed them at Tommy.

"Does this look like my first time?" Tommy asked.

"Isn't it somebody else's turn to be the human shield?" Chuck complained. "I mean, really."

"Shut up," Tommy ordered.

"I asked you before, Tommy, but...do you have me, or do I have you?" Tommy cocked the gun. "Okay, okay, you have me." He saw Bryce try not to smirk at him.

"Stay there, Bryce," Tommy ordered as Bryce came forward.

"You all right, Chuck?" Bryce asked.

Chuck looked at him, his eyes growing wide. "I'm peachy," he replied flatly "Does it look like I'm all right?"

"I need to ask you something," Bryce said, looking him in the eyes.

This was a little weird. "Shoot," he replied and then he thought about it. "Not you, please."

"Khi-ja? Gho-be?" Bryce asked. No way… Bryce was _not_ asking him what he thought he was asking him. "Khi-ja? Gho-be?" he asked more forcefully.

Crap, he was. Chuck winced and braced himself. "Khi-ja."

Bryce had a sorrowful look on his face. "Sorry, Chuck," Bryce said, and he shot him in the chest. Chuck hit the ground hard. There were more sounds and he heard someone yelling, but most importantly, his chest HURT. Like a million Alien eggs hatched at once and were bursting out of his chest cavity. Then he lost consciousness altogether.

He felt someone patting his face, asking him to wake up. He coughed and tried to explain. Lord, did it HURT.

"Khi-ja... Khi-ja." Sarah's eyelids fluttered and he felt her fingers in his hair. "Yes. Yes... I am wearing a vest." He laughed a little at the absurdity of it all and coughed. "That stings a little bit," he said, pointing to his chest. Sarah helped him up. "Seriously, that is…" He finally started to catch his breath as Sarah helped him up, Bryce helping on his other side. "That is not fair to not tell someone how much a bulletproof vest _still hurts_."

Firemen entered the Buy More, guns drawn. "NSA! Nobody move!"

Sarah took control quickly, stepping in front of Bryce, her badge out. "Stand down, he's one of us." The NSA agents ran past as Sarah turned looking first at Chuck, and then at Bryce. Her face went completely blank then and she walked away. Chuck watched Bryce go after her, leaving him alone. He looked around the wreck of the Buy More, thinking about how symbolic it was. Just a few months ago, he had been ready to leave, to move on, and then Sarah Walker had walked into his life, turning said life upside down. She and Bryce were amazing agents, and he wasn't. It was that simple. Sarah told him she didn't think he should be an agent, but she gave him the choice.

What if Bryce hadn't gotten him kicked out of Stanford? Would he have met Agent Walker in the CIA? Could things be different between them now if they did meet? If they were put on the same time? He would never know, and that hurt more than the most likely growing welt on his chest did. He saw Bryce pulled into the home theater room by other agents, and he spotted Sarah off to the side watching. He saw the look on her face. She was torn, and while he didn't know for sure, he had to believe it was about what to do now that Bryce was alive and well. Her partner she obviously worked so well with considering what he'd seen them just do to Tommy's men.

Chuck wandered around the store for a bit, trying to get his head on straight. He wanted to kick the sign at his feet, but he reached down to pick it up instead. He found Sarah at the Nerd Herd desk, staring at the home theater room. He wondered if he shouldn't walk away for just a moment, but then he shuffled over and pulled himself up to sit the counter beside her. Casey ambled up behind him.

"What are we going to do?" he asked rhetorically. He meant about the team, he and Sarah, Bryce, but what he didn't care about was the Buy More.

"Relax, Chuck." Casey answered. "These are NSA cleaners. They'll have the Buy More back to normal in a jiffy."

He hated his life right then. He didn't want to ask the question...but he need to know. "What's happening with Bryce?"

"He's in there giving his report to General Beckman," Sarah replied. Chuck wanted to look at her, but he couldn't. Bryce came out of the room just then, wearing a tux, and headed over to the trio.

"It would appear I have a new assignment," Bryce reported, his normal trademark grin on his face.

"As a maitre d'?" Chuck asked.

"Actually, it's a consulate dinner," Bryce replied. "They want me to go after Fulcrum, on my own, off the radar."

"Sounds like heaven," Casey said in a low breathy voice that more than creeped Chuck out just a little.

"That means Bryce Larkin is dead. And he's going to stay that way this time." Bryce held his hand out to Chuck. Chuck eyed it for a moment, then gladly grabbed it, shaking it. "Good-bye, Chuck."

"This is so weird. Where you going to go? Who you going to be?"

"Sorry, not even you can know." Bryce switched his gaze to Sarah then, and stepped closer. Chuck felt his own stomach drop. "Sarah... We'll always have Omaha." Chuck saw the look on Sarah's face, her eyes widening, recognition dawning in her features, and they all watched Bryce walk away.

Sarah turned to look at them. "Will you make sure he gets home okay?" she asked Casey then, gesturing to Chuck. She winced and Chuck wondered if he'd looked like he'd just been slapped. "Sorry," she said to him then, "it's just been a day, and I need a long bath. I didn't mean to imply you were a puppy or something."

"I am questionable at being housebroken," Chuck replied. But she didn't react to his quip.

"I'll get him home, Walker," Casey said, and he looked between them for a long moment before he grunted and walked away.

"Anything I can do, Sarah?" Chuck asked her then once they were alone.

"No, I just need to decompress."

Chuck nodded. "I understand. Just...just remember what I told you on the beach: anything you need, I'm here for you, whatever it is, okay?"

She just looked at him and he couldn't read her. "Yeah, I know."

He saw her look around, and he followed her gaze. They were surrounded by agents. He decided not to offer a reassuring touch the way he knew she would do for him if the roles were reversed. "Whole lot of NSA agents in here, huh?" he asked, and she gave him a knowing smile. She nodded. "Good-bye, Sarah," he said softly.

"Bye, Chuck," she said, giving him an inquisitive look, then turning and leaving. She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder at him. He gave a wave with his fingers, and the best smile he could muster. She waved back, and walked out of the Buy More. He looked around at how it was nearly turned upside down. What a perfect metaphor for his life.

}o{

Chuck knocked on Casey's door. He wanted to go see her, but she didn't need that. Not the pushing, if she needed him, she'd tell him. If she needed him she'd reach out...wouldn't she? Hell, it was Sarah, there was every chance she'd push him away. "Hey," Chuck said as Casey opened the door.

"Took you longer than I thought," Casey said.

"I don't know what you mean, but we do have some turkey leftovers… Actually, we have a lot of turkey left over, so I was wondering if I could interest you in some sandwiches or something."

Casey looked quite uncomfortable, which was impressive considering how uncomfortable he looked when he had opened the door. "Thanks, but work to do." He lifted the bonsai tree he had in his hand.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Chuck asked. Casey looked up at him. "That's what Omaha meant, right? I mean, it could be some weird _Casablanca_ reference but it means something."

Casey nodded, looking like he was constipated or something. "Probably a code, where to meet." Chuck was silent. "Bryce is going deep, Chuck. No messages out. If Sarah wants to join up with him she has to do it now."

Chuck swallowed hard. "I hope he doesn't screw her over again."

Casey stared at him. "For Christ's sake, Bartowski, I'm not the person you should be talking to about this."

"So if I came in right now, you wouldn't have a bottle of Johnny Walker and two glasses out?" Casey glared at him. "Don't worry, I'm going back to my room where I'll behave and be a good Intersect." Chuck turned to leave.

"Bartowski…" Casey began and trailed off. He seemed to decide not to say it, whatever it was.

Chuck nodded and headed back to his apartment. Everyone was there eating leftovers. Morgan was talking about how great it was having it just be them this time. But Chuck didn't join in. Instead, he went over to the couch to have some peace and quiet. He pulled out his phone, and sent a text.

C: I just want to make sure you're okay with everything that happened today.

There was no response and a couple of minutes later he sent one more.

C: Whatever happens, wherever you go, you can count on me. As your friend. I'm here for you always.

He put his phone down and joined his family, the one that was there for him and had been through everything. He didn't know how he was going to explain this to them, but he'd figure out a way when the time was right.

After Morgan left and Ellie and Awesome went to bed, he did the same. He was going to sleep, he really tried to convince himself of that. He gave up, got up, got dressed, quietly moved to the front door, opened it, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Casey standing there.

"What happened to being a good asset?" Casey asked.

"I just needed to… You know what? I'm going back to bed," Chuck replied. Forget it.

Casey clamped a hand on his shoulder and dragged him out the door. "Here are the rules. We never talk about this, EVER. ...You don't know she's gone, kid."

Chuck walked to the car, quietly. Casey glanced at him. "You don't know she's still here."

Casey didn't have an answer for him. He drove Chuck to the beach, and stayed in the car as Chuck went to their spot and sat, watching the sun rise, thinking about how different his existence had been before he met Sarah Walker, and wondering what it would be like now that she was gone.

}o{

She didn't know why she had yet to turn the lights on in her room. But the moment she stepped inside, she bypassed the lights and peeled off all of her clothes, leaving a trail of them on the way to the bathroom. She'd left her robe off as she ran a bath, afraid of maybe getting some of her blood on it. She hadn't even turned on the lights in that room, bathing in the darkness, nothing but the moonlight coming in the window providing enough light for her to see where she had to be careful washing—places with cuts and bruises from their car being side-swiped.

And after she climbed out, she put a bit of ointment on the worst ones, applied a few band-aids, and got dressed...all still in the dark.

She didn't even think about it until an hour had passed and she sat in the plush chair in the corner of the room, staring at the stripe of moonlight slicing through the dark room… but maybe she hadn't turned on the lamps in the room because it would make the room feel a little too lived in. No, it was that leaving the lights off made it feel like no one was here. And if no one was here it meant she wasn't here. If she wasn't here, and she wasn't anywhere else...well, maybe that was just like her being...nowhere at all.

Rolling her head back against the chair, she took a deep breath. She wasn't going to try to work that out.

She didn't want to work anything out.

But there was this nagging persistent voice in her head reminding her that she had a path to get away from everything complicated. She had a way to get out. Because in spite of the fact that she'd never felt anything close to love with Agent Bryce Larkin, in spite of knowing she likely never would, she knew he'd be completely fine with that. Because even if they'd butt heads on cases back then, it had still been so much easier than this.

She'd never felt any extra tugs outside of her libido on occasion. And now she was dealing with tugs from every single direction. Her mission, yes. What she'd come here to do. What she promised herself she wouldn't stop doing until it was no longer necessary. But also, just...him. Him alone, the Intersect aside. He tugged at...everything.

There would be a lot more freedom away from here. And then she didn't know what that even meant. She'd never had freedom. The only time she felt anything close to that was on that stupid beach—no video surveillance, no bugs. When it was just the two of them sitting there. She didn't even have to say anything. Sometimes it was just listening to him unload, the way things came out from between those lips of his so easily, knowing he felt completely safe and comfortable being candid with her. And maybe that realization scared the CIA agent.

There wouldn't be more freedom away from here. There'd be less. And part of her wanted to run towards that, with her tail tucked between her legs. She knew what to expect out there. And here, she was always on her toes—sometimes in a good way, but if she were honest with herself, it was mostly in a bad way. She was in the dark so often.

But it didn't matter how much of her wanted to run, how much of her wanted that easy, predictable spy life with a partner who was pretty good at sex and good enough as a partner, who didn't expect more than that from her… It didn't matter, because she wasn't going.

 _We'll always have Omaha…_

Bryce was waiting. He was waiting for her before he left and went deep undercover. Waiting for her to join him. She knew he wouldn't wait long, so at least there was that. He'd leave soon...She glanced at her watch, angling it so the lights from outside shone on it. If he hadn't already figured out she wasn't coming and left by now.

She somewhat wished she was the type of person who always took the easy road. Scoffing at herself, she pushed herself up to her feet and shuffled over to the window, crossing her arms and watching Los Angeles live outside. The traffic in the streets below was probably enough to make some people leave, if they had a way out. She snorted quietly to herself, but the smirk died just as fast.

Chuck Bartowski. He was waiting, too. Somewhere. Probably at home. Was he reading a comic book? Watching some karate movie with Morgan? Playing a video game? Was he waiting for her to respond to the texts he'd sent? Probably.

She couldn't help huffing in frustration and turning her phone over on the bed when she'd seen them come through, first one...then another a few minutes later, like he'd agonized over whether he should send another when she hadn't responded to the first. She could feel how hard he _wasn't_ pushing, and yet he was texting her, as if he needed some sign she was still around. She didn't know what he thought she was doing besides taking a bath like she said she was going to do. It didn't matter. She was here. She'd probably see him tomorrow. She had to. She was his handler, his protector. And somebody had to make sure he was okay, after everything that had happened.

A chill wracked through her as she remembered the sight of Bryce's bullet slamming into Chuck's chest. The way Chuck had been thrust backward, his whole body lurching, the way he'd been so limp on the ground. She'd known inherently that Bryce wouldn't have shot him like that without a plan. He'd done a lot to keep Chuck safe in the first place; killing him would undo all of that work, and...there was the fact that she knew Bryce genuinely cared about Chuck. Just like most people did when they knew him.

But it had been more than a relief to see that vest, and to watch his eyes open, even as he coughed horribly. And to know that there'd just be a horrible bruise, a welt, but that there was no bullet lodged in his chest.

Yes, she'd have to check on him. Not just because he was her asset but because he'd been through too much. Again. She'd entrust Casey with him tonight.

Sarah Walker just couldn't do that right now. She needed a God damn break. From everything and everyone. Just a few hours to herself. Without...all of this shit. She didn't want to think. She didn't need to think. She just wanted to clear her brain, get in bed, and sleep 'til her muscles practically atrophied.

She needed to reset.

She needed to realize that she'd just passed up the chance to go back to the life she had before, and that was no small thing. But she didn't want to realize it or dwell on it. She wanted to bash her head into this wall repeatedly.

This was supposed to be her last mission, so of course she wasn't going back to the spy life, back to Bryce. That ship had sailed. She was done with it. The only spy life she could stomach was this right here—working with Casey to protect Chuck. Though even this was hard to stomach sometimes.

And even though she did plan to walk away from this business after Chuck was free from the Intersect and safe from the government's sneaky grip, she was still an agent. One of the best. And she took her job seriously.

She didn't abandon missions. Agent Sarah Walker finished her damn job. And she wasn't quitting this one. Not with how much she prided herself in being a professional.

That was honestly the least important reason why she was still here.

The most important reason was something she was genuinely scared to even think about. So she wouldn't. She'd just get pissed, probably. Pissed that this whole thing was just going to continue to get harder, more complicated. The longer she stayed.

And still she wasn't budging.

She kind of hated herself for it. She didn't understand what was happening. And she felt some horrible, mean emotion start to bubble up in her chest. Maybe it was just that she was _actually_ saying goodbye to Bryce in a sense. Like, really saying goodbye. This wasn't him disappearing, going on the lam with important government software, betraying her, then getting killed. That hadn't been a goodbye, it had been like...a painful good riddance. Bryce was alive. He was just leaving. He wanted her to leave with him and she was saying no. In every sense.

It was goodbye.

And maybe part of her felt a bit of an ache, even if she didn't want him or that life anymore. Walking away from things that once made you feel good...hurt. It hurt.

Suddenly her room phone rang and she spun to look at it sitting there on the nightstand, vibrating with each loud ring. It was Bryce. It had to be. He didn't have her burner number, but he'd found out this number. Somehow. He was a spy. That was how.

She didn't know what to say as she crossed the room towards it. Answering it and snapping a crisp and final, "NO" in his ear would be too cruel. And she wasn't so sure he'd understand what she even meant by it.

So she just stood and stared. And then she moved to answer it anyway, but then her cellphone buzzed, lighting up where she'd left it on the mattress. She froze and turned to look at it. A third text from Chuck, probably.

And that frustrated her like crazy, but it frustrated her even more that she was too curious not to just leave it alone and answer the damn phone to tell Bryce to go without her. She snatched the phone up from the bed with a quiet, sharp, "What!" directed at no one in particular. She turned it in her palm and saw that it wasn't from Chuck, but Ellie instead.

Sarah's eyes bulged and she blinked.

She opened the message with shaking fingers and watched as the picture popped up in the conversation. No words, just one picture. It was Chuck on the couch, completely knocked out, head lolling to the side, his body splayed out. But the kicker was Morgan splayed out just like he was, half on top of him, his head on his shoulder, mouth open in what had to be a snore.

Another text came in then, popping up under the picture. _I thought you should know, as his girlfriend, that this is what Turkey Coma Chuck looks like._ She added a wink.

Ellie. Sweet Ellie. She had no idea about anything that had happened today. She had no idea that her brother had a large welt on his chest under those two layers he was wearing on his torso. She'd just sent a funny text, an inside joke, to the woman she thought was dating her brother.

Sarah realized belatedly that the ringing had stopped and she glanced over at the phone again. So that was that.

But then it started ringing again, and in spite of everything, she felt some sort of warped humor come up from somewhere inside of her and she snorted, smirking. She even let out a quiet chuckle and shook her head.

She glanced down at the picture again, at how comfortable the bond between these two grown straight men was that they fell asleep on top of one another after eating too much of Ellie's turkey. She didn't get why, she couldn't even begin to understand...but it gave her the push she'd apparently needed to go and answer the phone.

Rushing to the phone, Sarah grabbed the receiver and lifted it to her ear. "Hi."

There was a quiet scratching sound, then a sigh. "I didn't think you were going to answer. I'm glad ya did."

She smiled. "I am, too."

There was a long pause, and then, "I feel like this is probably the most I've ever had to wait for a woman. Not that I'm trying to brag or anything. It feels weird."

Sarah rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Sorry I made you wait. But…"

"But?" She heard how tentative his voice was as she paused. "When you didn't call my burner after a half hour, an hour...another half hour after that...I got a little worried, Sarah."

She frowned. "I didn't call because...I'm not coming with you, Bryce."

"Nonsense. You can toss some stuff in a suitcase and make it here in less than a half hour. I'm at the Getty. I can even meet you at the bottom of the hill…"

"Bryce, you know very well that it's crazy you're still here in the first place."

"I'm still here for you, Sarah."

She heard how serious he was, the flirtation and laid back tone gone from his voice. "But you're going to leave without me," she responded, in just as serious of a tone, making sure he really heard her. "Because that's the way it has to be."

"It doesn't have to be that way and you know it."

"Well, then...if you need me to say it, I will." She sighed, nibbling on the inside of her cheek. "This is what I want, Bryce. I can't disappear with you. I can't let Sarah Walker die with Bryce Larkin. I'm here for a job and I'm not going to abandon it. Not for anything." She heard him let out a heavy sigh. "You of all people should know how important the...operation is. How important _he_ is. And I don't trust anyone else with this." She raised an eyebrow. "You shouldn't, either, if you're really serious about him staying safe."

She could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "You're right. I don't think there's a better agent for the job. I just thought we'd do really well out there together again, you and me."

"Maybe before all of this. But there's no going back, Bryce. That's…" She took a long, deep breath. "That's done."

There was a low whistle on the other side of the phone, and then he chuckled. She could hear that she'd hurt him, but he was Agent Bryce Larkin at the end of the day. He took lickings before, she knew. Maybe not this kind. He'd be okay.

"Take care of that guy, huh? Tell him I'm sorry for that bruise on his chest. And Sarah?"

"Hm?" She bit her lip hard.

"We'll still always have Omaha. You know, if you change your mind at any point in the future."

Sarah didn't really want to respond to that. Because as far as she was concerned, Omaha was gone. Wiped off the face of the Earth. Instead, she said, "Be safe, Bryce."

"You too, Sarah."

The phone disconnected and she put the receiver down. She grabbed at the duvet on her bed, yanked at it, and crawled inside, throwing it back over her head and curling into the fetal position. She fell asleep finally with a few tears on her pillow.

Walking away from things that once made you feel good hurt.

And maybe...maybe that was why she was still here.

* * *

 **A/N:** EDC here (puts away kleenex) Listen...if you're still alive after reading that, and yes, SC nearly killed me, (I mean, Chuck Bartowski. He was waiting, too. Somewhere. I needed to lie down the first time I read that) that does mean what you think. But it's not going to be easy, because life isn't easy for Chuck and Sarah. They have SO much to deal with, SO much, and there will be serious hurdles. I need you to understand that. I also need you to understand we are the two biggest Charah shippers you will EVAH see. Trust. We will get them there. So strap in, hang on, because I feel pretty safe to say, you ain't seen nuthin' yet. Sing it SC!...SC?

...Nah ah. Please review! Thanks! -SC


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N:** You know who handles counterfeit money? The Secret Service.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from this story.

* * *

She was staring at the ceiling, not wanting to be awake. It was early...ish. Earlier than she wanted to be up, on a Saturday in which she didn't have to work. She glanced at her phone, took a deep breath, and checked for the 47,823 text messages she knew Chuck had sent her. There weren't any, and she knew what that meant. He was beyond freaking out. She sighed and dialed Casey.

It rang once before he answered. "Thank Christ," he muttered.

"Everything okay, Casey?"

"You in Burbank?"

"Where else would I be?" Sarah asked, amusement running though her.

"Walker," he one part grumbled, and...was that one part a whimper?

"I'm here, Casey, in my apartment. Let me guess, Chuck's freaking out?"

"Now when has Bartowski ever done that?" She laughed at that, from her belly. No, her soul. She'd needed that. The past few days had just sucked, and she just needed time to herself. Time in her room to get herself back together, to….deal...with what happened...with what she realized she had said to Bryce. "Hey, Walker, when do you work again?" Casey's voice sounded almost chipper.

"I have the later shift on Monday," Sarah replied. She swore she heard him mumble something about the beach and that sonofabitch.

"Listen, you've been through hell the past week," Casey began. Was he...giddy? "Take some time, unless Beckman or Graham calls. Don't do anything near or at the nerd...unless you have to." And there it was, but it was sincere and without his usual snarkiness.

"Are you sure?" she asked, almost giddy herself.

"As long as you promise you aren't leaving me here with him by myself… then yes. See you Monday...partner."

Casey disconnected the call, leaving Sarah looking at her phone. She had no idea what happened last night, but she knew Chuck had done something and he was probably going to pay for it. He was a big boy. As long as Casey didn't hurt him… on second thought, she sent him a quick text telling him not to hurt Chuck. Casey replied that he wouldn't touch him. Sarah smirked a little. It was mean, but maybe forty-eight hours with Chuck would get Casey to ease up on some of the barbs he shot at her. She doubted it, but maybe. She fell back into her bed, a peace building in her, knowing she had time to herself, and on Monday she'd deal with how to approach Chuck.

}o{

Lester was running his yearly dice game, the one he tended to make the rules up for as he went along. Usually Chuck would break it up, but he just wasn't feeling like it today.

It had been three days since he last saw her. She had to be gone. She was with Bryce, that was the only answer. It was killing him inside, but he was trying to stay calm and collected. That was Chuck, calm and collected. That's exactly why Sarah had left with the super spy deluxe, Bryce Bartholomew Larkin… He had no idea if Bryce's middle name was Bartholomew but it sounded like the middle name of a guy from a rich Connecticut family.

"Decided to take up bird watching?" he heard Casey ask behind him.

"Just breathing in the view," Chuck replied. He didn't know what happened, but after Saturday morning, Casey was much less...understanding. There it was, the Casey grunt. He looked at Casey, smirked, and turned. "I know that grunt. Yeah, that's the number seven, right? Skeptical with a side of cynicism."

"Just clearing my throat," Casey retorted. "Also couldn't help but notice, Agent Walker's car isn't in her usual spot." What the hell? Was he purposely trying to torture him? "Of course, maybe she's _under_ cover with Bryce right now. _Deep_ undercover."

"You would know better than I," Chuck retorted. Casey raised an eyebrow. "I didn't mean you and Sarah…." An amused smirk now accompanied the eyebrow. "You know what? I'm just gonna stop." He turned around looking back at the spot where Sarah normally parked and it was still empty. He couldn't take looking at it anymore and spun away from the sight. "Fine, I haven't seen her since she left to take her bath and decompress. I texted her and she never responded. She couldn't have been in the bathtub decompressing all this time. What if she slipped? What if she slipped in her bathtub, hit her head, and she's bleeding?"

Casey raised an eyebrow at the speed of the spiraling. "She didn't hit her head."

"Have you talked to Sarah lately? How do you know? Did she call you?"

"Agent Walker and I don't do a lot of fraternizing off hours. Guess we'll just have to see," Casey said with an air of mystery.

"See? See what...what-what...see what?" Chuck felt the panic creep back in.

"See if she's had enough of the good life here with you," Casey replied. Chuck swallowed. "See if she's hightailed it to wherever your buddy Bryce is hiding himself. See if she's shagging," Chuck flinched. "Shaboinking, shafting." Chuck blanched. "Shtupping, Skloogin." Chuck was starting to feel sick to his stomach. "Slophockey, Smeeging, or Snabbling."

"I don't feel so good," Chuck muttered.

"Oh, don't worry," Casey said with mock sympathy. "I hear there's a great selection of new handlers in this year's CIA Christmas catalogue." With that Casey turned and walked away.

"Are there?" he asked, still feeling queasy. "Thanks a lot."

He turned back around to look out the window, when Morgan scooted up to him. "She's a liar, not to be trusted."

"What's that?" Chuck asked, all confused.

"Women," Morgan replied, giving Chuck the, keep up, look. "Man, they're so elusive, so unknowable. Okay? They wrap you in this wool sweater of lies and it keeps you warm, but it makes your neck all itchy."

Did Morgan know about him and Sarah?...Did Morgan know more than he did about him and Sarah? "Who-Who are we talking about exactly?"

"Anna," Morgan replied. Chuck let out an internal sigh of relief. "And by the way, never trust a woman whose name is a palindrome, okay?"

"Uh, how do you know she's a liar?" Chuck asked, scared to hear the answer.

"I waited outside her house last night, in the bushes. I saw her get picked up to go out, then dropped off exactly three hours and twenty-four minutes later," Morgan explained like it was nothing. "She's cheating on me. My Anna Banana is cheating on me."

Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose. "Morgan...we've talked about this. In the bushes?"

"I brought a sandwich," Morgan replied.

"Oh," Chuck said, shrugging. "Wait, no!"

"You said not to wait for _Ellie_ in the bushes," Morgan insisted.

"Actually, that was Ellie who said that after she flattened you for waiting in the bushes and scaring her, and I'm pretty sure she meant all women," Chuck rebutted.

"She didn't clarify that," Morgan replied. "Can we talk about more important stuff right now?" Chuck started to say something but the Morgan train had left the station, and he had no choice but to jump on, or get left behind. "Listen, she's lying to me, okay? And a relationship is built on trust, Chuck. Sex and trust, am I right?"

Chuck's eyes widened. "Uh, more trust than sex. See sex is also based on trust so actually you're saying trust and trust."

Morgan gave him a look. "Dude...I'm sorry man, I just thought….I get it, you had a bit of a layoff, she's smoking hot….you know what, it's not my business."

"Wait, I think—"

Morgan laid a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "What's cool is you and Sarah are so pure and simple, you know? You ever wish you were born, like, a dog or a dolphin? Or Dr. Dre? Who's cheating on Dre, man?"

"Chuckster," Lester called out, walking up to him. "Uh, we got an install job over at Marina Del Rey."

"Okay," Chuck replied, having no idea why they needed him. "Well, go with God, fellas."

"No, no, no," Lester retorted. "Big Mike says you have to come with us, 'cause, you know, Jeff's not to be left unsupervised around the holidays."

"Do you want to try my eggnog?" Jeff asked, holding up a thermos full of something. Lester was giving Chuck the no sign. What the hell was in there that made _Lester_ give the no sign?

"No," Chuck retorted.

"I'm sorry, fellas," Casey said, walking up. "You guys go by yourselves, okay? Seems the Chuckster is a little sick to his stomach and we wouldn't want to give our customers any...illnesses."

"Should Jeff be going?" Morgan asked softy.

Chuck had to agree with that logic. "That boat rocking, and Chuck's upset tummy, thinking about who knows what…" Chuck turned to give Casey a look. Morgan wandered off as Jeff and Lester left. Casey leaned over Chuck's shoulder near his ear. "How'd you like to be that guy right now?" Casey said nodding his head toward Morgan. "All heartbroken over a lady?" Casey walked off while Chuck glared at him. He then turned and resumed his post of watching…nature… Yeah, that was it… That wasn't it.

}o{

When Jeff and Lester returned they were hunched over something, trying to be sneaky.

"Casey, what are the odds that's not something they videotaped on the boat?" Chuck asked Casey quietly. Casey looked up, grunted, and shook his head. "Any chance you want to do this?"

"No, better be you, but I can be an enforcer if it helps," Casey offered. Chuck nodded and the two walked over to Jeff and Lester. The two never noticed Chuck and Casey behind them, they were so engrossed in the footage they had captured. It was two young ladies in bikinis. "Christ, you pervs."

The two turned around, scared as Chuck took the video camera away from them. "How did you do this?" Chuck asked, taking a look at the screen and seeing money being counted in machines. "And what the hell did you two stumble onto?"

"Lon Kirk's charity," Lester replied. "And I have a camera in my button on my shirt," he boasted proudly. Casey reached over and yanked it off. He glanced at the video, an eyebrow up.

"That's a lot of money for charity," Chuck said, handing the camera to Casey. At that moment, the camera swooped down as they saw Lester's hand reach for a hundred dollar bill. The bill came into focus, and the flash began.

Casey saw what was happening and grabbed Chuck to steady him. "Easy, Chuck, I know it's a lot of money." He turned to Jeff and Lester. "I suggest you two don't talk to anyone about this ever. If you want to keep your jobs."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jeff replied.

"That I believe," Casey said, leading Chuck away.

}o{

 ** _BEHHHHH BEHHHHH BEHHHHH BEHHHHHHH_**

Sarah reached out, half asleep, and smacked at her bedside table a few times, grabbing her phone as her fingers slipped over it. But it wasn't buzzing. Nobody was calling her. That horrific sound wasn't her phone.

It was her alarm.

Why the fuck was her alarm even on?

She dropped her phone...wherever...and smacked her hand onto her face, lifting the sleep mask from her eyes and grunting, glaring down towards where her alarm clock was blaring, the screen lighting up.

She couldn't read it clearly, but it looked like it was earlier than noon, so fuck that. Tearing her mask off and throwing it over the side of the bed, she then slipped her fingers under her pillow to where her trusty knife was stored before she fell asleep every night and felt for the smooth hilt.

With a quick snap of her wrist, she heard the crack and thump of the knife connecting with the alarm clock and pinning it to the wall. She'd have to pay some sort of fee for that probably. Or she could just get some hole sealant from the Buy More and no one would know the difference. It didn't matter. The horrible sound was gone now.

But she knew now, as she felt conscious thought start to work in her mind, that she did have to get up. She had to be at a briefing. Or something. She had somewhere to be. That was why she'd set the alarm in the first place. She'd had a weekend to hide away, let her mind run away with her, only for her to have to rein it back in again… Rinse and repeat.

She'd tried mind-numbing television. She'd even walked out in the cool brisk night air of downtown LA to try to clear her mind, people watch, let the cold bite at her skin a little bit and distract her.

It had been a small break from everything, even if her mind hadn't let her rest.

But now it was back to business, she supposed. She slowly sat up and let out a long whine, pushing her hands through her hair and just glaring at her lap. Finally swinging her legs out from under the sheets, she took her time showering and putting clothes on.

And then she realized that she'd taken too much time and would be late to the briefing. Casey and Chuck could probably handle it, right? Sure. Right. They'd handle it just fine. And what was so crucial that it had to be so early in the morning anyway? Granted, eleven wasn't that early, but still…

By the time she got to the apartment complex, she was fifteen minutes late, and she found herself rushing in spite of the voice in her head trying to tell her not to worry, that she'd earned the last few days off, that she'd earned being late to this briefing.

The fact was, whether she'd _earned_ anything or not, this was her job. And she didn't make a habit of half-ass her job. Not when Chuck Bartowski and his family and friends relied on her...well, full-assing her job.

She needed some God damn coffee.

Rushing into the room, she heard the tail end of Beckman's sentence: "Perhaps we should reschedule when Agent Walker is feeling better…"

"I'm fine," she said, shutting the door behind her. Chuck spun to watch with wide eyes as she approached him. There was shock there, his jaw falling open, and then as he clicked his jaw shut, there was relief, confusion… "I'm sorry I'm late. Carry on."

She didn't even want to know how Chuck and Casey had tried to cover for her being late, but she was curious about Chuck's response to her arrival.

It had to wait, however, as the CIA director and NSA general got right to business. "As I was saying before," the General droned, and a picture of a guy who looked like a wannabe Mick Jagger popped up on the screen. So it _was_ a new mission. "This is Lon Kirk. He owns the yacht your...strange friends...visited when they answered the Nerd Herd on-call request. We saw the pictures you flashed on, Chuck. That was a good call."

Sarah frowned in question as more pictures popped up on the screen to cover Lon Kirk's smarmy face. Women wearing bikinis—the typical type of woman straight rich powerful men like Lon Kirk kept around their yachts—lounged on pristine white leather seats along the yacht railing. "Er, not those…" Beckman said as another picture popped up. Sarah saw what was absolutely and positively money counterfeiting happening on that yacht. Holy crap. "These. Here. Like we were telling Agent Casey and Chuck, Agent Walker," Sarah could hear a bit of a tone there and she inwardly winced, "The serial numbers that Chuck flashed on are a strain of counterfeit currency that the U.S. Treasury has been trying to track for years. Lon Kirk now devotes most of his time and money to aid projects, mostly foreign."

"And we think he's the source…?" Casey filled in, almost as if asking without actually asking.

They all knew he was the source. But she could feel the tension in Chuck next to her, like he was going to burst. Over what? Why? Was it because she'd been out of circulation the past few days thanks to Casey covering for her to give her a break? Did he resent her for that? She silently chastised herself. Chuck wasn't that type of person.

"Not confirmed," Graham said. Yep. He was the source. "However, we have intel that a major counterfeiter is in Los Angeles trying to acquire a new set of printing plates."

"And how shall we proceed?" Sarah asked, crossing her arms.

"We've phoned this in to the Secret Service," Graham answered, and Sarah straightened her spine a bit, turning to look around Chuck at Casey who sent her a confused glance of his own. "They usually handle issues of counterfeit and they've already got an agent here who's been investigating the issue. He'll be teaming up with us for the mission."

"As far as Kirk is concerned, you're all going to have to proceed very cautiously. He's extremely well connected on both sides of the law," Beckman said, her features hardening. Sarah imagined there was more behind that. "He's hosting a charity event tonight at the New Constellation Yacht Club. We've got covers already set up for each of you."

Chuck widened his eyes and sent Sarah a quick glance that she chose to ignore for the time being. "M-Me, too?"

"Yes," the general said. "You'll go as staff with Casey as back-up for Agents Walker and Hennessy, who will be going as guests."

"One question," Casey interrupted, lifting a finger. Sarah spared a quick look at him and saw what she'd feared she'd see. She was going to strangle him in his God damn sleep. "Will Agents Walker and Hennessy be going as a couple?"

 _Fuck._

He was such an asshole.

"Unless Agent Walker has a problem with that?" the general asked, looking at Sarah pointedly. There wasn't anything sarcastic about her question, either, Sarah was a little surprised to find. She genuinely wanted to hear if Sarah had misgivings about that cover.

"I do not have a problem with the cover, General," Sarah said, hands on her hips. Chuck was staring at her, but he turned back to the screen finally. She had no idea what his face looked like but she hoped he wasn't being as transparent as he usually was.

"Chuck? Can you handle waiting tables at the Yacht Club?" Beckman asked.

"Sure. Sure, yeah. I used to wait tables in high school. One of my, uh, many jobs. Never lost a glass or a plate. Sooo...hah…" He gave their superiors the double thumbs up.

"Good," Graham said with a curt nod. "Good luck, then."

They signed off, leaving them alone in Casey's living room, and Sarah let out a long sigh, dropping her arms to her sides.

"Excited to meet this...Agent Hennessy," Casey said, sending them both a bit of a grin. She wanted to punch it right off his face.

"Secret Service. That's the real deal," Chuck breathed, not seeming to take the older man's bait. "Think the guy is gonna walk in looking like Will Smith? Or do you think he's more Gerard Butler looking?"

Sarah smirked a little and turned to meet the look Chuck was sending her. There was still that questioning look in his face, with that bit of surprise, and she really wanted to know what in the hell was going on in his brain. "I need to get back and change. Those hot dogs won't fry themselves. Are we meeting back here?"

Casey wiggled his phone. "Beckman says Hennessy will be meeting us here at eight tonight."

"Do we have a picture of him so we can ID him when he arrives?"

"I bet you'd like to know what he looks like, eh, Walker?" Casey snarked. Really, she was going to murder him.

"Unless you want those fuckers who were going after Bryce to show up and pass themselves off as a Secret Service agent without us knowing, you should probably wanna know what Agent Hennessy looks like, too," she drawled, her voice dripping with poisonous honey, narrowing her eyes at the NSA agent.

His smirk died and he grunted. "Hmng. Yeah. I'll forward it to you when I get one."

"Uh, f-forward it to me, too, Casey," Chuck said, wiggling his phone back at the other man. And there was Casey's smirk again. Damn it, Chuck.

Sarah turned on her heel then and left the room, walking through Casey's door and out into the courtyard. She'd nearly made it to the gate when she heard Chuck's footsteps behind her.

"Hey! Hey, Sarah. Wait."

She stopped, slowly shifting her weight, taking a deep breath, and turning back to face him. "What's up?" she asked, playing with her car keys between her fingers.

"Hi." His eyes softened, and then he cleared his throat and shook himself a little. "Nothing's up. N-Nothing. I just—You know, it's—It's good to see you. Here. As-as opposed to...somewhere else." He made a face and rolled his eyes at himself. "I just mean, I'm glad that you're here. That you came back. I mean—what I mean is that you never left."

Sarah frowned. God, of course. She was so clueless. More clueless than she usually was. He'd looked so surprised when she'd shown up because he _was_ surprised to see her there. Because she hadn't responded to his messages and Casey had just let him think she'd gone, that she'd acted on Bryce's invitation. An invitation Chuck wasn't even supposed to know about. Which meant Casey must've told him what 'We'll always have Omaha' meant.

Part of her was mad at Chuck for thinking she'd abandon him when she told him over and over and over that they were a team, that she was going to protect him from all of this no matter what. And he thought Bryce showing up again would be the one thing that would cause her to break her promise? She felt an extra sting when she realized that meant Chuck also thought she was the type of person who'd just dash off without even saying anything. Like her job, this mission, and his safety all meant that little to her that she'd disappear with a guy who'd betrayed her and done so much to harm Chuck.

But then she forced herself to take a proverbial step back, to try to step into Chuck's shoes. What was he supposed to think happened when he didn't hear from her or see her for days after Bryce vanished, when she decided not to answer his texts. And he probably had found out somehow that his sister had texted her and that she hadn't responded to that, either. Not to mention, while she trusted Casey with her life, and with Chuck's life, and while she knew he would do his job—even more than what the job required of him when he needed to—he was also such a jerk sometimes. An ill-meaning jerk. And he'd planted the seed in Chuck's mind that she'd left with Bryce just to fuck with him and make things awkward and difficult for her when she reappeared. He was such a dick sometimes, really.

Sarah shut her eyes for a moment and then opened them again, looking off to the side. "Chuck, I didn't go anywhere. Casey told me to take a few days to...recover. I mean, to rest. It was a hard couple of days and I needed it."

He nodded vehemently. "Totally. Yes. Super hard. Mostly for you, I'm sure. And you definitely deserved that bre—Wait. Casey told you…?" A flash of anger came over his face and she felt like they were on the same page again suddenly. "That asshole. Seriously?"

"Seriously," she said, giving him a wan look.

"He thinks he's soooo funny."

"Yeah. He does."

"Would I go to prison if I snuck a scorpion into his bed? Not a poisonous one, just a regular type one." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and narrowed his eyes.

Sarah sniffed in amusement. "You can try it. But he might murder you if he finds out it's you."

"But you'd protect me, right?"

She just smirked up at him. And then she sobered a bit. "Chuck, why'd you think I'd walk away from this mission to leave with Bryce? Casey goading you aside, I told you I was going to protect you, and I meant that."

Chuck let out a frustrated groan and let his head fall back, blinking up at the sky then lowering his head again to meet her serious gaze with one of his own. "I dunno. It just seems like it'd be so much easier and—weirdly enough—safer for you to go off and disappear. I-I mean, leave this super complicated—for a lot of reasons—" God the way he said that last part made it pretty clear what one of the reasons was and she couldn't acknowledge she understood his meaning even in the smallest way, "mission behind and do something you're used to, something you're good at. Beating up bad guys and saving the world." A soft, crooked grin snuck over his mouth and wrinkled the corners of his eyes and she wanted to run away suddenly. Not to Bryce, not to any other place besides Burbank, but to the safety of her car.

"Easy isn't really my thing, Chuck. Keeping promises _is_ my thing. This job is my thing. I'm not fucking around with your life. Not to run out of here 'cause it's the easy thing to do. Not for anything. You understand that, right?" She lowered her chin a bit to look at him through her eyelashes.

"Yes. I do. And I'm sorry I ever—"

"No, that's not what I need." He blinked at her interruption and she reached over to put her hand on his arm. "You don't need to apologize to me. Casey's a dick and you apologize? Don't. This wasn't your bad."

Chuck smiled gratefully and nodded. "Still stands I'm...glad you're here."

Agent Walker wasn't sure how to answer that, so she just folded her hands together in front of her and smiled a little.

He seemed to get the hint and cleared his throat. "I better, uh, I better get going. I gotta punch in. And hopefully find a way to confiscate the rest of those bikini photos from Jeff and Lester because they are...really gross."

Sarah snorted, then gave a bit of a wave with her fingers, turning on her heels and calmly running for the hills—as it were.

"Sarah?"

She froze, turning to face him again. "Yeah?"

"Did it work? I mean, did it do you any good? A few days without all of this?"

Pursing her lips, she thought hard about how to answer that. Before she decided, her mouth started moving. "Probably not much, maybe a little. It was...a lot. A lot happened. But I'm gonna be fine. And we've got a mission to focus on."

"Right. We do. I'll, uh, see you at eight." He smiled reassuringly and she needed to just get out of there. Quick.

"Yep."

She made for her car then, bracing herself for if he called her back again, but he didn't. And she relished the idea of putting that stupid costume on yet again and stand in the solitude of the Wienerlicious to focus her brain on menial tasks until it was time to get ready for tonight.

}o{

It was a little before seven when she heard the knock on her door.

She frowned at her reflection and put down her mascara, hurrying through the hotel room and popping the door open, peeking out for a moment before opening it wider. "Chuck? Everything o...kay?"

He had his full waiter outfit on minus the jacket which was slung over his arm. And he looked extremely uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah."

"We were meeting at eight. And at Casey's apartment," she said, blinking at him. "You just had to walk across the courtyard."

"No, yeah. Yeah. I mean, I know. I just...um...I've never done this type of cover. The waiter cover. And um...Well, can I come in?"

His non-answer to her original question aside, Sarah could see he was very nervous. About tonight most likely. About the mission, about being in a room with this Lon Kirk guy. About his role. About any number of things. So she opened the door wider and stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. He did so quickly and she shut the door after him.

"Sorry," he said then, a little breathless. "I don't mean to intrude like this. And I know you're probably getting ready. I just got ready too early and I was pacing and this-this outfit is kind of tight. I mean, the jacket. It squeezes at the shoulders. Not that I'm, like, Mr. Olympic Swimmer Shoulders or anything, but I think the CIA effed up my shoulder measurements. Or are waiter clothes supposed to be tight? Is that how they do it? I don't know. When I waited tables, it was at a chill burger joint and I just had to wear a button-up with black pants. Easy-peasy. They didn't even specify the color of the shirt, so..."

"Uh...okay." He really did have a habit of running to her when he was losing his shit, didn't he? And she wasn't miffed with him for it, but she couldn't help asking. "You know, Casey's closer than I am. And he's done this sort of undercover job before—waiting tables, bartending. Why didn't you just ask him and save yourself a trip across town?"

Chuck frowned and crossed to her bed, slumping to sit on the end of it. Then he leapt back up to his feet again as if her duvet had burned him. "Oh! Sorry. Is it okay if I, um…?" He pointed to the bed.

"Yeah, of course."

He sat again with a nod and she came up to stand in front of him, crossing her arms at her chest and looking down at him.

"After his bullshit over the weekend, I'm not sure he wouldn't give me some bad advice on purpose and make me look like a fucking moron tonight. Just so he has the opportunity to call me a fucking moron and be right about it for once."

That answer knocked her on her ass a little and she snorted, giggling quietly and raising her eyebrows with a one shoulder shrug. "Can't say I blame you." He pressed his lips together and shook his head slowly. "Well, I probably can't help you with the clothes being too tight…" She leaned down and fingered his bowtie. "Is this too tight? Because I _can_ fix that."

He nodded and stood up again, suddenly standing very close to her. She widened her eyes, got a hold of herself and cleared her throat, tugging to untie the bowtie and smoothing his collar for him. "Who did this so tight for you?"

"Uh, me. And Google."

She giggled and shook her head. "As for your role tonight, just stay close to Casey and do your job." He sent her a questioning look. "I mean, as a waiter. Pour drinks for people, take people's orders, you know. That kind of stuff." She began retying the tie. "Too tight?" she asked, not really thinking much about it as she stuck two fingers down between the collar and his neck, feeling the heat against the backs of said fingers as she made sure the knot she tied wasn't strangling him. He shook his head jerkily and she slipped her fingers out again with a closed mouth smile, straightening the bowtie and nodding once at her handiwork.

"The key here is to stick close to Casey, though, right? I don't follow you and the, uh, Secret Service dude around? See if you meet anyone flashworthy?" he asked as she let go of him and stepped back a little.

"That's an idea," she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Maybe a little. But mostly, keep close enough to Casey that he can be there to protect you if anything goes south." He tensed and she rushed out, "Not that anything will. You're going to have me, Casey, and Agent Hennessy there."

"Does he know I'm the Intersect?"

"Secret Service isn't read in on the Intersect. At least, I don't think they are. Casey doesn't think they are. Agent Hennessy just thinks were's a couple of agents looking into the same situation he is."

"He...thinks I'm an agent?" The corner of his mouth curled up.

"I don't know what level of agent Beckman and Graham told him you were, but yeah." She bit back a smirk. "Like with Carina, he's probably operating under the assumption you're an analyst. So don't give him any reason to think you're anything more than that, okay? No Intersect shop talk, and if you do flash, don't let him see it."

Chuck clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared, a serious look in his eye as he nodded once. "Got it. So I'll just…" He cleared his throat, running a hand down his crisp white button-up. "I'll just stay around you two and Casey, a casual distance, tagging along with you and Secret Service guy—Agent Hennessy. Hennessy. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "It's pretty crazy cool, working with Secret Service, huh? Never met one of 'em before."

She didn't want to tell him he'd known one for the last few months or so. He might faint or break or something and she'd have to explain it to Casey and the other agent later. But she had worked in Secret Service before, for a few missions at least.

"Well, at the end of the day, he's a human being. Like the rest of us."

"But like...jump in front of a bullet for the president human being. That shit's extra wicked."

Both of their phones buzzed then and they exchanged a look. He went into his pocket and she grabbed her clutch from the bed, grabbing her own phone. Casey had texted them both the picture from Hennessy's dossier. Crap, he was extremely handsome. This was going to suck.

"Is this what romance writers mean when they say 'olive skin'?" Chuck's voice intruded her thoughts and she looked up at him and snorted. "Are we in some kind of Hollywood movie where all of the secret agents are obscenely attractive? You, Bryce, Carina...this guy...Hell, even Casey's a looker if you're wearing the right prescription of glasses."

Sarah barked out a one syllable laugh and shook her head at him. "Stop it."

"I mean, this is pretty cool for you, though. You get to go to a fancy party with this guy on your arm. Aren't-Aren't you trying to blend in a little, though? You two would definitely stick out, especially together. Like...Hotness Squared." He scratched the back of his ear and then apparently decided to stick his phone back in his pocket.

"The object isn't really to blend in as much as it is to get on Lon Kirk's radar. We want onto that yacht of his again so that we can scope it out. If even one of us gets an invite, that's good, but if both of us can get onto there, that's double the chance of being able to search for that counterfeit money Jeff and Lester stumbled upon." She shrugged.

"Oh. Yeah. I could...spill some whiskey on Kirk's lap and Agent Hennessy can hand him a napkin."

Sarah widened her eyes. "Please don't do that. Let the professionals worry about making contact with the mark, okay?"

Chuck pursed his lips and nodded a bit jerkily. "Professionals. Yeah. Good...good tip. Good thought, I mean. Right." The 't' at the end clicked with emphasis as he sat on the bed again. "If you wanna keep getting ready, you can."

"You know what's expected of you tonight?"

"Mhm."

"And if you flash?"

"I'll tell Casey. But not Secret Service guy."

"Good." She didn't know how Chuck had gotten here, if he'd taken a Herder or a cab or what, but when she finished her mascara and slipped into her heels, grabbing her clutch, he'd wordlessly followed her down to her car and folded himself up into the passenger seat.

When he asked her about whether or not she had seat warmers, she felt like he was well on his way back to his usual self, that she'd reassured him enough.

So that when they finally arrived at Casey's apartment at eight o'clock sharp, she didn't think anything of the way he seemed to freeze when she opened the door and led him inside.

Casey was standing beside another man who was a few inches shorter but also slimmer and more lithe. Both of their backs were to them. And they casually turned to watch as Sarah and Chuck walked in.

"Ah. Right on time," Casey grunted, smirking. "Agent Hennessy of the Secret Service? Agent Walker. And, uh, Chuck."

The agent stepped forward and grabbed her hand in a tight handshake, smiling politely. "Agent Walker…" They let go and he turned to shake Chuck's hand. "And...Chuck."

"Agent Bartowski. Actually," Chuck drawled.

"You're not an agent," Casey said through his teeth.

Agent Hennessy seemed amused enough by that, albeit a bit confused.

"I'm an analyst, though," Chuck blurted, and Casey looked exhausted already.

Then he got a look on his face. And all she could think was _ooooh boy_ before he said in the smoothest voice he was capable of, "Agent Hennessy, the cover is that you and Walker are a couple."

The agent turned his dark brown eyes to look at her then and he nodded once. "That works for me."

She felt Chuck's presence at her shoulder then. "I'm gonna be a waiter. So...winner winner chicken dinner. Know what I mean? Agent Hennessy, are the shoulders—your shoulders on your jacket—is it tight for you, too?"

"No, it fits okay."

"Oh, good." Chuck nodded. "Good. Just checking. Want you to be comfortable."

"...Thanks."

"Sure. No problem. I'm going to be sticking close. Close to you and Sa-Agent Walker. I'll b-I'll be…" He wiggled his hand around weirdly. "Right in there behind you two. So if you need some back-up, I'm your guy."

"No," Casey said. "No, he isn't. Just so you're aware, Agent Hennessy, Chuck doesn't have any fighting training, since he's an analyst. If you need back-up, look to me and Walker. Chuck will be there for analyst purposes only."

Hennessy buttoned his suit jacket which made him look even slimmer and his shoulders more pronounced, and he nodded. "I'm sure we won't need to worry about that. I've got a few names I can drop to get myself invited onto his yacht. The only thing I'm worried about is catching his attention in the first place, and then keeping it."

"I was thinking I'd sp—"

All Sarah had to do was send Chuck a hard look and he shut up.

"You have thoughts, Chuck?" Hennessy asked, looking between them and settling on her nerd counterpart.

"No, I'll leave that to the field agents."

"If you're sure…" Hennessy checked his watch then. "I'll take point if no one has any objections. I've been after these bastards for a while." No one seemed to object. "Good." He offered his arm to Sarah then. "Agent Walker? Shall we head to our limo? Secret Service approved." He grinned a handsome grin and she snorted and nodded, threading her arm through his.

"Shoulder Boy, you're with me," Casey grunted behind her as she walked arm in arm with Hennessy towards the door.

She froze as they started to move out into the courtyard, though, and pulled her arm from his. "Sorry, it's—" She cleared her throat. "Our cover here is Chuck and I are...And I shouldn't be seen…"

"Oh." Hennessy winced good-naturedly. "I'll head out to the limo and wait inside for you. We'll park it a block down the road, how's that?"

"Perfect."

"Yeah. That's a good thought," Chuck said over their shoulders, practically pushing his face between them. "Don't wanna bust up our cover, right?"

Hennessy just rushed off through the courtyard and disappeared.

Sarah didn't watch him, instead turning to send a death glare over her shoulder at a smirking Casey. She could feel Chuck starting to slip again, and now he'd be stuck in a car with the NSA Needler for a good twenty-five minutes while she sat in a limo next to an "olive skinned" Secret Service agent.

This was going to be the longest long night yet.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time, how does _OUR_ Agent Walker handle things?

Please review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N:** I (SC) am back from Kaua'i and I'm on a damn mission with my fic now. I have those horse blinder thingies on. Shit's getting real. Let's dive head first into this Lon Kirk business, yo. Let's go.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from this story.

* * *

"Hennessy is not for beginners you know. It's strong, but smooth," Casey said after five minutes of silence in the car. Chuck never answered, wondering what happened to silent, grunty Casey. "I'm normally never for mixing, but Walker _is_ for mixing...the red label that is, not the black." Chuck turned slowly toward Casey, glaring at him, knowing that Sarah was wearing a black dress. "If I was gonna be crazy and mix the Hennessy with anything, I'd do the black, because that would be strong, and it might blow the fuck out of your life, but for one evening it would be worth it."

"Probably wouldn't remember it the next day," Chuck replied, still glaring.

"Your body would probably never forget it," Casey replied. Chuck, seething, looked away.

"What happened to Quiet Casey?"

"What, you don't like that I'm trying to form a bond with you, form a relationship in case the CIA decides Walker would be better suited somewhere else?"

Chuck was silent for a moment and then, against his better judgement, spoke. "She wouldn't go," he said resolutely.

"'Bout damn time you figured that out," Casey muttered.

"Casey—"

"Shut it, numbnuts, we're back to silent."

"This is about the beach, isn't it?"

"I said we never talk about that again, now shut your trap!" The rest of the ride found the two in silence.

}o{

The ride to the event was spent in perfect silence, mercifully. No small talk, just a few words shared between the two agents to make sure they were on the same page for the mission. Agent Hennessy was a professional. For once. And she was so damn relieved he didn't seem to give a rat's ass about anything but their tasks for the night. It was such a welcome change.

He offered her his arm as they walked down the grandiose staircase and onto the casino floor, no words exchanged, and she held onto him as she cast her gaze around the room. "I don't see Kirk yet," she murmured, knowing Hennessy wasn't the only one who could hear her.

Casey and Chuck were listening in on the comms.

"Probably making the rounds, as any good host would," Hennessy replied, also looking for their target.

"Hit the tables and see if you can't just mingle in the crowd for a bit 'til we spot him," Casey's voice came over the comms.

Graham and Beckman floated them one hundred grand for the night and they were going to have to make it last for as long as they couldn't find Lon Kirk in the mess of suits and gowns.

"What if Agent Hennessy trips one of the waiters?" Chuck piped up as Hennessy led her through the tables. "That'll get eyes on you two."

"Subtlety is key in this, and that's not very subtle," Hennessy replied smoothly. "Think subtle."

"I was just thinkin' … Maybe I swing by with a tray of drinks and oopsie, martini tipped, oh no Lon Kirk's jacket has vodka on it, oh and there's Agent Hennessy with a napkin. Then boom, strike up a convo."

Sarah tried hard not to roll her eyes at Chuck. "Still not very subtle, Chuck."

"Right, right. I'll keep thinkin'."

"Maybe don't," Casey chirped sarcastically.

"Anybody see Kirk yet?" Hennessy asked, giving Sarah a bit of a nod towards a craps table. She smiled at him and slid up against the table as he stepped in behind her, asking for a few hundred chips.

"Negative," Chuck murmured. Sarah heard him gasp in her ear then and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry. Don't worry, vodka is clear liquid. I'm sure it won't stain…"

She heard Hennessy sigh heavily behind her as they played the table, intent on winning a little, losing a little.

They spent fifteen minutes subtly glancing around the room and not being able to find Lon Kirk while they bet at the same craps table before Casey cleared his throat pointedly, a different tone to his voice from the tone he'd been using while dealing for patrons at his own table. "Sir. Your bet?"

She exchanged a quick glance with Hennessy and they pulled back from the table after the round was finished, both of them walking slowly through the crowd as if searching for a lucky table, pressed close the way any young couple who enjoyed one another's company might be. "Where's the table?" Hennessy asked.

"I can't see Casey, either," she said.

"I found him," Chuck murmured then. "And I see you two. Take a sharp right and move towards the piano."

As they followed Chuck's instructions, Sarah spotted Casey running the roulette table...and there was Lon Kirk, sitting alone, a pile of chips in front of him. That was a pretty damn lucky break.

Sarah got to the table first and Kirk's eyes lifted up to look at her...then dragged down her slowly. Knowing his reputation, she wasn't exactly surprised by his reaction to her appearance. But she sat down, leaving a seat for Hennessy between her and their mark. Kirk's eyes were still fastened on her as she smiled politely at him, Hennessy finally plopping down gracefully in the seat she left for him. Sarah turned to beam at her date and he grinned back handsomely.

"Think we found a lucky table, hun?" he asked.

"I dunno, sweetie," she said back. "There's only one person here." They both smiled at Kirk and he sniffed in humor at the remark.

"Oh, I'm very good luck. I, uh, I don't believe we've met yet," Lon Kirk said smoothly, setting his drink down. He reached over to shake Hennessy's hand. "I'm Lon Kirk. I'm the host of this event."

"Michael Warwick," Hennessy said, just as smoothly, returning the handshake politely. "Warwick Industries. Appreciate the invite. It's been some time since I've gotten my head out of the company's business."

"I'll say," Sarah said with a giggle, putting her hand on Hennessy's forearm.

"And who is your...charming...companion?" Lon Kirk asked, reaching out towards Sarah. She offered him her hand, and when he tried to turn it over to kiss, she tightened her grip around his fingers and forced him to just shake her hand instead. It was a power move that seemed to both impress him and intrigue him. She hadn't really been going for that.

"Sandra Killion. I'm Mike's girlfriend." She squeezed Hennessy's bicep with both hands and bumped his shoulder with hers, earning another grin from him.

"Lucky man," Kirk said, still smiling at her.

"Yes, I am."

Sarah felt eyes on her profile and she sent a quick glance over her shoulder. Chuck was just standing off to her left, his tray empty except for an empty highball glass, and he was awkwardly staring at what was happening at the table.

She caught his eye and gave him a look and he almost seemed to jump, as if realizing he was doing a bad job at his cover as a waiter, spinning first one way, then the other, and finally hastening back to the bar to do his job.

"I know the people of Taiwan are deeply appreciative of your generosity, Mr. Warwick."

Hennessy nodded once, a modest look on his face. "It's the least I could do. Really."

"May I ask, Mr. Kirk, how you came to focus your charitable efforts on Taiwan?" Sarah piped up, folding her hands on the table in front of her as Hennessy looked up at Casey and exchanged a nod. Casey began pushing the chips towards him.

"Well, I started doing business there. And I just...fell in love with the people." He stood and grabbed a small stack of chips, moving them to place his bet. "Their indefatigable nature." He nodded to Casey. "Three and nine, please." Casey nodded with a "yessir". "I said to myself, Lon...you can help."

He sent her a modest smile, an attempt at charm, and she smiled back warmly. "That's wonderful."

"And I always bet on red because it reminds me of all the pain and suffering in the world."

"Oh my Godddddd," Chuck groused in their ears. Hennessy twitched just subtly and she wondered if he was amused, or maybe she'd just imagined it.

Just as smoothly and easily as Kirk had done it, Hennessy put a few of his own chips down, on black she noticed.

"Miss Killion, you aren't betting?" Kirk asked.

"I'm superstitious," she murmured. "I meant it when I said I thought this table was unlucky."

"Ouch," he chuckled.

She giggled and shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sandra has a rule. When a table doesn't feel right, she doesn't bet. I don't fall into her superstition, however." Casey spun the wheel and Hennessy won. It was kind of impressive, and he shot her a teasing grin that made his face light up, sharing a chuckle with Lon Kirk. "See?"

"All right, you get this one, I guess," Sarah teased her "boyfriend", pushing his arm. "I'm really not good at gambling at all. I hate games of chance," she explained to Kirk, draping a hand over Hennessy's shoulder and watching as Casey pushed more chips over to the Secret Service agent. "I like having control."

Hennessy chuckled. "Yes, you do. This is true."

"Warwick Industries," Kirk interrupted, shifting in his seat. "What is it you do there? I'm afraid I invited quite a few people tonight—for charity of course—and I haven't done my homework on everyone."

"Uh, technology. Mostly cyber security, though. Security in general, but that's more, uh...hush hush." Hennessy winked at Kirk.

"Security. That's interesting. So you do work protecting other company's assets, so to speak?"

Hennessy nodded. "We're the best at what we do. That's why I'm here, if I'm being honest with you."

"Security?" Kirk asked. "I don't remember requesting security be here."

"Oh, no, not you sir. I'm afraid I can't say who. It's part of the job—being discreet."

They placed their bets again and Sarah could see the wheels turning in Kirk's head. "Do you give estimates for your clients?"

"Would you like to schedule a meeting, Mr. Kirk? I typically send out one of my representatives, but I like you. This event, and you, have impressed me, I have to admit. I'd work with you personally. I'm good at what I do."

Kirk smirked, watching as Casey spun the roulette wheel again. And as Hennessy won again, this time a much bigger sum because he'd taken a bit of a risk, the other man outright laughed. "I can see that you are."

Sarah sent Hennessy a flirtatious look for the cover and he shrugged cockily, pulling in the chips Casey pushed towards him.

"I'm interested in a meeting."

They both turned to look at Kirk as he sat looking back at them, a thoughtful look on his face. "I want to know more about this Warwick Industries and what you might be able to do for me. I have a lot of assets that need protecting. And I need someone who...well...I wanna know I can trust you. No offense."

But then a man hurried to the table and bent down, whispering something in Kirk's ear. He sobered up a bit, then pushed up to his feet, winking pretty obviously in Sarah's direction. "If you'll both excuse me."

She smiled politely back at him and they both watched him move away.

"Did he seriously just wink at you in front of your date?" Chuck asked.

"Keep your eyes on Kirk, Chuck," she ordered, doing the same as he moved through the room determinedly. Damn it, that was bad timing. Agent Hennessy had been close to getting another meeting with Kirk and learning more about his business.

She saw Chuck chasing after Kirk then and she inwardly groaned. He completely ignored someone trying to reach for one of the martinis on his tray.

"What're you doing?" Hennessy asked through gritted teeth.

Chuck ignored him.

She pushed up to her feet, murmured something about the ladies room—she didn't even know what she'd said—and she followed Chuck.

"What—?"

"Just let it go, Hennessy," Casey grumbled.

She was ten feet behind Chuck when she spotted Lon Kirk talking to another man. They were leaning close, talking in low tones, and it set off warning bells. But they didn't look too friendly.

Chuck halted in his tracks and ducked his head then, nearly dropping his tray, and she had to almost lunge for it, sweeping it out of his hands skillfully and grabbing his arm. "Chuck? Hey...what is it?"

He sent her a look. He'd flashed. "I...I, uh, recognize him. The-The guy Kirk is talking to."

"Who is he?" Hennessy asked.

"Rashan Chen. He's the Taiwanese attache to the premier. He's dirtier'n all get out." Chuck paused, then turned to look at Sarah, his jaw clenched. "I've figured it out. This whole charity is a front to launder counterfeit money."

"Why don't I know about Rashan Chen?" Hennessy asked. "We don't have him in our files…"

"We do," Casey said. "And now you know why we keep this kid's memory for faces around."

Sarah let go of Chuck then and even stepped away, handing him the tray back and clearing her throat. She watched as Chen pointed his finger in Kirk's face, anger in his features. "Something is wrong...I don't like how this is looking," she said. "Hennessy, I think you need to go in. Get that meeting."

"On it," he said, and he was up from the table like lightning, smoothly cutting through the tables and following after Kirk as he broke away from Chen, a stormcloud look on his face.

Kirk stopped as Hennessy put a hand on his shoulder, and the two men began talking. Kirk's features seemed to settle a bit and the two men even chuckled together. Sarah quietly went back to Casey's roulette table as Chuck moved to the bar again, and she looked over her shoulder to see Hennessy walking towards them again.

He looked pretty satisfied, like a guy who'd just done his job really well, and she was certain he'd gotten himself a meeting. _Good work, Agent…_ she thought to herself, smirking at him as they met gazes.

"Well, Sandra, have you had enough of the tables tonight? Why don't we cash out and head home?"

"Sounds like a good idea," she chirped, and Casey handed Hennessy a few very high-range chips and nodded politely to them as they hurried off.

}o{

"That was some slick work, Hennessy," Casey said once they were all back in his apartment. "Getting that meeting tomorrow."

"And on his yacht, too," Sarah added, lifting an impressed eyebrow.

Chuck eyed her carefully, then cleared his throat. "What'd you, uh, what'd you two talk about anyway? I mean, what'd you say to get him to meet with you?"

"Well, whatever Chen said to him hadn't exactly made him feel very safe, I assumed," Agent Hennessy said, crossing his arms. He'd taken off his tuxedo jacket and untied the bow tie, and now he had this sort of James Bond during his day off look to him that filled Chuck with envy. He knew he was immature, but...whatever. "So I kept poking at it with a stick, obviously without letting him know I'd seen that whole exchange, and he was pretty eager to have me meet him on his yacht tomorrow."

"Good," Sarah said. "Really well done."

Hennessy nodded, smiling a little. "Should we reconvene here before the meeting on Kirk's yacht, then? Or Agent Walker, I can just swing by and grab you so we can head to the docks."

Chuck did a bit of a double take. "Wait, S-Sarah's—Agent Walker's going to be on the yacht, too? Isn't, uh, isn't this supposed to be a business meeting?"

The other man sighed and looked at Sarah. "Kirk seemed pretty adamant the meeting is laidback. Pleasure with a side of business. He asked me to invite my girlfriend Sandra, but it felt a lot more like an order than him asking me. Guy's an asshole."

Sarah was a little stiff where she stood, Chuck noticed, but she nodded. And then she smiled at Hennessy. "That works. Gives you some back-up close by in case things go south."

"Yeah, well…" He clenched his jaw and climbed up to his feet. "I think it's unnecessary. We know where his head is at. And where his eyes were at." Chuck was inclined to agree with Agent Hennessy, but he felt something else there...he thought maybe he was seeing something in the Secret Service agent's annoyance. "But if you're okay with it, Agent Walker, I could use the back-up."

"If it gets us more information on this counterfeit operation, it'll be worth it," Sarah said with a nod. "You've got my address. Pick me up at noon."

Hennessy let out a huff and nodded, the professional mien back. Then he nodded at Chuck and Casey, grabbed his jacket, and swept out of the apartment.

Chuck dwelled on the suave Secret Service agent for a moment, and then he said goodnight to both of his handlers, walking across the courtyard to his own place. It was nothing, he thought to himself. He was projecting. He didn't like the insinuation in Kirk's inviting Sarah to come along with Hennessy for that meeting. It had been obvious the counterfeiter was attracted to her. Was he really going to try to make a play for another guy's girlfriend? It was gross.

He missed the pair of blue eyes peering out through Casey's living room blinds as he unlocked his apartment's door and stepped inside. They were looking at him closely, and it wasn't just to make sure he got back to his room safely.

}o{

Sarah knew Chuck was annoyed at being left behind for this part of the mission. He'd texted her asking if Lon Kirk's yacht needed a waiter. Maybe she and Hennessy could use some extra back-up. He'd tacked on a joke about not being able to fight, but he was capable of a scream high-pitched enough to create a tidal wave.

She'd just sent him a smiley face and told him to stay at the Buy More. They would handle it.

But she knew there was more to it than just feeling left out. She saw the way Chuck watched Agent Hennessy when he worked, the flash of awe in his face when Hennessy told them back at Casey's apartment last night that he'd procured the meeting. The Secret Service agent was really good at his job, and Chuck was noticing, but in a certain way that made Sarah...tentative. Because every so often last night, she'd felt Chuck's gaze settle on her, too. First Hennessy, then her.

She really needed Chuck to not do that right now.

If they could just get through this op, Hennessy would go back to his own work, leave LA, and everything would be back to normal. So she told herself to focus as she fixed the black cover-up she'd tied over her bikini bottoms, adjusting the sleeveless blouse she'd shrugged on to cover her bikini top.

Being able to wear a gown onto a yacht was really too much to hope for. Without anyone having to tell her, she knew what was expected of her during this meeting. She was back-up underneath everything else, but for the cover, she was a young woman whose powerful boyfriend got her onto a very rich man's yacht. And she was going to wear her bikini to tan and hopefully go swimming. That's what anyone normal would do in that situation.

She held onto Hennessy's arm as they walked up the gangplank to be welcomed by their host and she didn't miss the way Kirk's gaze lingered on her body specifically. It sent a shiver down her spine in the worst way, and she felt the agent beside her tense a little.

They had decided on the bare minimum of comms this time, considering she was just in a bikini and Hennessy wore a loose, unbuttoned shirt over swim trunks. Casey and a smattering of equal parts NSA and Secret Service lay in wait around the dock, surrounding the yacht under various covers, ready to charge in if needed. And they each had a way to listen to the conversation on board, but she and Hennessy couldn't hear them.

It made her feel a lot better about this. More than anything, though, she knew she needed to be here. Sending Agent Hennessy in alone was asking for trouble. The guy needed at least someone on the boat who wasn't Kirk or someone working for Kirk.

"Are we getting the business over with first?" Hennessy asked Kirk, draping an arm over her shoulders. "It's a nice day, I thought maybe I'd get some rays before they become harmful. You know what they say...sun between two and four is—"

"Sweetie, that's a load of baloney," Sarah interrupted, patting his chest affectionately.

Kirk just smirked. "We have time for business later." He turned his gaze to Sarah then. "Miss Killion...Can I call you Sandra?"

"Sure," she chirped. "We're all friends."

"Yes. We are." His smirk widened. "Make yourself at home on my yacht, please."

"Wow, thanks." She giggled. "I've never been on a yacht before. It's really nice."

"Simmer down on the exuberance, hun," Hennessy chuckled. "You're making me seem like a putz. I don't have a yacht yet, Lon, and now you've just made sure I never hear the end of it from this one until I do."

"You deserve a yacht, Sandra," Kirk said, giving her a significant look. "You deserve a lot of things." Then he must've realized how that sounded and reached out to nudge Hennessy's shoulder as though he was just teasing. Everyone was well aware that he hadn't been. It made her skin crawl.

Hennessy was definitely tense as they followed Lon Kirk out towards the bow of the yacht where a few lounge chairs were positioned at the perfect angle for the midday sun.

"Why don't you two settle in and I'll make sure we get some drinks out here?" Kirk offered, gesturing to the chairs. "Sandra, are you more of a martini girl? Or champagne?"

"Champagne," she said after giving it some thought. "My guy over here likes a dry martini, though." She really didn't know what Hennessy liked, but he nodded in approval either way, and Kirk disappeared.

She didn't feel entirely comfortable having a conversation with the other agent at full volume in spite of Kirk heading below to get the drinks. So she sat close to him on his own chair and leaned in. "We need to get him talking about his business soon, here. First of all, 'cause he's making me nervous with this affected kindness, and secondly, I forgot to put on sunblock."

Hennessy sniffed in amusement. "Rookie mistake, Agent Walker," he joked back. "I'm definitely getting this meeting back on track when he comes back with our drinks."

She nodded, but before she could move back to her chair beside his, Kirk came back up and grinned at them, spreading his hands out to the side.

"Well, the drinks are on their way." He gave the fact that she was sitting so close to her "boyfriend" a significant look, and the sparkle in his eye made her move back to her chair quickly.

"Thanks, Lon," Hennessy said. "So tell me a little bit about what you'd require from Warwick Industries. What sort of protection are you looking into?"

Kirk gave the other man a bit of a look. "You usually talk shop in front of, um…" He sat on a third chair facing the both of them, gesturing a little towards Sarah.

"Oh, not in-depth so much. I just thought we could talk some surface level business. Sandra knows when to excuse herself, right, hun?"

"I do," she drawled, lounging back against her chair and fixing her sunglasses. "I'm a practiced hand at it."

She heard Lon Kirk mutter, "I bet you are," and she bristled.

Before she could glare at him, Hennessy cut in, something hard in his tone. "Lon...Mr. Kirk… I take this business seriously. Now, if you'd prefer it, you and I can go down below to talk about the details. Sandra won't mind, right?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not at all," she said, waving them off.

"That won't be necessary. If you're all right with your girlfriend knowing, I'm all right with her being here, too," Kirk said.

"Nothing doing," Sarah responded, sitting up again. She had an idea suddenly, a pretty good one. "Anyway, I need to use the restroom. Do you have one on this yacht, Mr. Kirk?"

"Lon," he corrected. "And of course. I can show you." He started to get up but she thrust her hand out towards him.

"You can just tell me and I'll find it. Gives you boys time to talk shop."

"Okay." He shrugged, then gestured to the steps that had led him down below earlier. "Go down those stairs, once you get inside, there are more steps at the back. You'll find the restroom right next to the stairs."

"Got it. Have fun, boys."

But as she got up and left, she felt both Hennessy's and Kirk's eyes on her. For very different reasons, she knew.

She gracefully made her way down and then peeked into the little cabin. It was empty, comfortable couches pushed against either wall, and as she traversed the cabin, she found the steps he was talking about.

Voices were coming up from the belly of the yacht, and she knew that was where the money printing had been going on before. She didn't dare go down there now. Even if she tried to pretend she'd just misunderstood Kirk's directions, it would be way too suspicious. She needed to give Agent Hennessy room to work his magic.

"Sandra."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. Kirk was walking towards her, and he followed her gaze to glance behind him, as if making sure her boyfriend wasn't there. Oh, crap.

"You know, I didn't want to say this in front of Michael; he seems pretty focused on his business..."

"He is," she interrupted.

"Yes. Uh, well...I just wanted to extend an invitation to you. Since your boyfriend doesn't have a yacht for you to use, you're always free to use mine." He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Anytime. Uh, granted, I'd prefer it to be when I'm also here."

Wow. This guy was a bastard. But she knew Hennessy hadn't had the time to get anything out of him yet and she couldn't afford to slam her fist into his face until he did. So she just smiled a little. "Nice of you to make the offer. But…"

"Hey, Lon, why don't we go back up on deck and talk business?"

Hennessy's voice broke through the unsettling quiet in the cabin and she tilted to the side to watch as he closed the distance, having obviously followed Kirk down below. She wondered if Kirk had excused himself to check on the drinks or something half-assed like that. As if Michael Warwick was some kind of trusting dullard.

"Oh, sure sure. I just wanted to be a good host," Kirk said smoothly, stepping back and holding his hands out in surrender.

"I think it'd be better if we stick to talking about how best you can protect what's yours," Hennessy said, his jaw twitching in annoyance. "You should know I'm pretty good about protecting what's mine, too."

Kirk chuckled and shook his head. "You drive a hard bargain, Mike. But I like you. Let's get downstairs and we can toast with champagne—martini for you—while we _actually_ talk business."

Hennessy walked around Kirk and wrapped an arm around Sarah possessively. "We can do that. Sure. But I'm gonna give it to you straight. You treat my girlfriend with respect. I'm not okay with you crossing lines with her."

"Mike...sweetie, it's oka—"

"No, it isn't," he interrupted. "Either you agree to quit these shenanigans with Sandra, or the two of us walk off this yacht right now. Business over."

Sarah gaped a little at her mission partner and fake boyfriend. This had taken a turn she hadn't really been prepared for.

But before she—or anyone else for that matter—could say anything, she heard yelling up on deck. "Federal agents! Nobody move!"

She and Hennessy shared confused looks as Kirk turned to try to catch a glance at whatever was going on.

"Get down!" an agent barked.

Kirk cleared his throat and held up a finger. "Excuse me…" And then he rushed off, heading back up on deck.

As if of one mind, they both followed, Hennessy letting her take lead, and as they slowed at the doorway, Sarah saw Casey standing over a crate with Taiwanese symbols on it.

"Who are you people?" Kirk demanded, walking towards Casey who was the obvious leader of the charge.

"NSA," Casey said, pulling his badge out and flashing it. "Stay right there. Let us do our job."

"Your job? Do you have any idea who I am?"

What in the hell was Casey doing? What had happened? She and Hennessy'd had this in hand. Well, sort of. Hennessy really hadn't taken well to Kirk being a douchebag.

"Open it," Casey said to one of his men.

"That crate is a bonded humanitarian shipment certified by the United Nations," Kirk said forcefully, like a man who was not used to being busted, questioned, or having to face repercussions. Casey must have gotten some sort of order from the higher-ups to board the yacht and confiscate the crate.

These hadn't been here when she and Hennessy were above deck, which meant they'd been brought on while they were below. Suspicious…

"It's illegal for any of you to open these," Kirk continued.

"Oh, I can make some phone calls. Hope you don't mind waiting," Casey snarked.

"Oh, I do. So we won't." Kirk grabbed the crowbar from Casey's agent and pried the lid off of the crate with no small amount of satisfaction. That was a bad sign. And by the confused look on Casey's face, she knew he was on the same page she was. Shit, what had they done? How'd they screw this up? Who'd given Casey the order?

"Medical supples," the counterfeiter announced to the whole boat, gesturing to the crate. "For the earthquake victims of Taiwan. I wanted to deliver it myself. We leave tomorrow."

Casey was pawing through the contents of the crate, a pissed off look on his face. Shit, they were just medical supplies. She turned and exchanged a worried look with Hennessy. He looked just as pissed as Casey. All of this had probably just wrecked his whole investigation.

}o{

"What the hell happened?" Sarah asked once she and Hennessy managed to get away from the yacht and met up with Casey. With the tension of the feds storming Kirk's yacht and everything else, it was pretty clear the meeting was over.

He was walking towards them on the sidewalk, the other agents below dealing with the mess of making apologies to Lon Kirk.

"I'd like to know, too," Hennessy snapped. "Who gave the order to move in? 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't me."

"Hey, loverboy. You weren't exactly subtle with the wounded pride schtick when Kirk went after your girlfriend," Casey groused.

Hennessy shrugged and shook his head. "Don't push this on me. I had him exactly where I wanted him. He's a businessman. He's genuinely interested in Warwick Industries. And Agent Walker wasn't there to be a bargaining chip," he added calmly. "I don't take kindly to my fellow agents being disrespected or fed to the wolves like that. It's disrespectful, and considering all I'm sure she's done for her country, I wasn't going to stand there and let her take it. I. Had. It. Under. Control."

Sarah widened her eyes. She'd known inherently that there hadn't been any weird jealousy or overprotectiveness in the way he'd acted because he'd been such a professional and so focused on the mission the last few days. But she had been confused. She wasn't confused anymore. This guy was the real deal. He was a good agent, and a good partner. She could hug him, but he probably wouldn't appreciate it. So she just exchanged a look with Casey instead.

"Look, I got the order," Casey said, and she knew he was lying. Because he gave her a subtle nod. Something else was going on here.

"Fuck that order," Hennessy growled. "This is going to be impossible to fix now. I'll be in contact with you soon. I've got some phone calls to make." And he stormed off in a cloud of frustration.

Sarah stepped up to Casey and grabbed his sleeve. "What didn't you tell Agent Hennessy?"

"We stormed the yacht because Chuck flashed. He told me he was sure something was in those crates."

"What?" she snapped.

"The idiot couldn't just stay at the Buy More like a good boy. He followed us here and made me give him an earpiece. Right after Hennessy went off at Kirk, Chuck flashed on the crates they were bringing onboard and said they had counterfeit plates in 'em. Said they were falsely marked as aid medicine."

"It _was_ filled with aid medicine."

"Yeah, I didn't know that until Kirk opened it. I asked the dumbass, like, five times if he was sure. He said he was sure. He flashed."

Sarah clenched her jaw. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. She was furious. "You said he flashed after Hennessy went off at Kirk to protect my honor or whatever?"

"Yep." Casey narrowed his eyes then. "Why?"

She didn't want to get Casey involved in this. Instead of telling him her suspicions, she just shook her head. "I don't know. He's been wrong before, but this is worse than usual. We're in trouble."

"Yeah, and I need to find a way to talk around it so Hennessy doesn't know I made the order based on a faulty Intersect flash. Maybe I can just murder that God damn nerd."

Sarah shook her head. Those thoughtful looks, the way he'd glance between her and Hennessy, and the closeness she'd had to affect with the Secret Service agent for the mission...Casey said he'd taken an earpiece, which meant he'd heard Hennessy get possessive and he'd probably read into it. Then he'd done the first thing he could think of to put a stop to the whole thing.

She stormed off to Casey's car. Casey couldn't murder Chuck, because she was going to make sure she got to him first.

}o{

Chuck checked his phone again. Nobody had said a single damn thing to him since this afternoon when he'd flashed on the crates and Casey immediately forced him to go home. For once he'd listened to him, he'd gotten in his Herder, and he'd come here, locking himself up in his apartment alone. They weren't kidding about Lon Kirk being dangerous and Chuck wasn't messing around with the potential of being seen by the guy.

Casey assured him they'd get the plates and get Kirk.

But now he hadn't even texted him to tell him what went down. And Sarah hadn't called or texted either. He got one text from Morgan asking why he'd left work early because Big Mike was looking for him. He'd made something up and sat on the end of his bed, just wondering...was Lon Kirk in custody now? Was his counterfeit operation busted? Was Agent Hennessy happy with the results?

Were the three of them talking to Graham and Beckman to debrief without him for some reason? It rankled with him to think of it. Yeah, sure. The Secret Service agent was a really good agent. He was impressive, a professional, extremely good at his job. He was everything an agent should be. And he frowned at that thought. He didn't begrudge the guy at all for it, but his presence provided a stark contrast to Chuck's novice status, his clumsiness, his lack of professionalism… He could go on.

And because he'd been alone long enough today, his mind had run rampant with foolish scenarios. Like Agent Hennessy having the Intersect instead of him. Someone with skill sets outside of fixing computers, someone who was experienced with spy work, someone with a solid moral compass...a mature professional. He started thinking about how much better off Casey and Sarah would be if they were working with Hennessy full-time instead of with him. Casey wouldn't be calling Hennessy a moron all the time. Sarah wouldn't be having to coddle him. Hennessy wouldn't show up at Sarah's door having to apologize for fucking up in some way or another every couple of days.

He'd just barely chastised himself enough for those self-pitying thoughts to be back in a better head space when there was a quick rapping on the apartment door. He frowned a little, then realized it was probably Casey to give him an update or bring him over to his apartment where Sarah and Hennessy waited.

Rushing to the door, he opened it, and was surprised when Sarah pushed in without waiting for him to even say anything. She looked around the room. "Ellie or Awesome home?"

He blinked. "Uh...no." He shut the door behind her. He could see in how tense her shoulders were that something was wrong. She hadn't smiled or even said hello. And he thought maybe there was some trouble. And oh God, Lon Kirk knew he was the Intersect. He had to go into deep hiding or something.

But then Sarah spun on her heel. "What the hell happened today?" she asked in a calm, collected voice. But there was still a cutting thread of anger and accusation there too.

"Uhhhh...what-what d'you mean?"

"At the docks. What was that?"

"Wait, you might need to explain some things. Casey shoved me back into my Herder and made me go home before he stormed the yacht with his spy friends. I've been sitting here all day wondering what was going on." He frowned. "Did something go wrong?"

Sarah furrowed her brow. And then she clenched her jaw and shifted her weight. "Yeah, I'd say so. Your so-called flash on that crate? After Casey 'stormed the yacht' with his 'spy friends' to get a look inside that crate, they found nothing but medical supplies. Not counterfeit plates, Chuck. Just...medical supplies. Lon Kirk is a powerful man. We're all in some pretty deep shit now."

His jaw dropped. "What? ...What? Wait. Why did I flash on that crate if it was just medical supplies? That doesn't make sense. There were plates in there. The-The Intersect—"

"That was pretty convenient timing, don't you think?"

"What?"

"Your supposed flash, Chuck."

"Supposed? What's that mean?" He narrowed his eyes.

"It means that you flashed right after you took the earpiece from Casey and heard Agent Hennessy sticking up for me. And after the last few days of Hennessy and I portraying a couple for this mission…"

"What?!" he snapped. "Are you implying I faked a flash? That I'm a flash-faker?"

"If the shoe fits!"

"Oh, this is really rich. Wow. Thanks for that vote of confidence, Sarah."

"We need to talk about the fact that you continue to let your emotions get in the way, and today was really bad. You not only jeopardized our safety with your behavior, but Agent Hennessy's entire mission that brought him to LA in the first place is on really thin ice."

"I can't believe you think I pretended to flash on that crate because of...Agent Hennessy calling Lon Kirk out for being a douchebag?"

"Oh, come on, Chuck. What am I supposed to think, huh? You don't think I saw the way you were staring at Agent Hennessy and I when we were playing a couple at the roulette table last night for Lon Kirk's benefit? You spilled a drink on someone's dress."

"I'm not good at balancing those stupid tray things on my hand, Sarah! It was lopsided!" He felt ridiculous even as he said it. But he straightened his spine anyway. This was so unfair.

"You couldn't handle seeing me get close to another man for a cover, Chuck! And then the way you wanted to be a part of today's op, wanting to be a waiter on Kirk's yacht. Why, so you could be around and make sure Agent Hennessy and I didn't—I don't even know what. But what really takes the cake is that you raced to the docks anyway, and once you managed to finagle an earpiece, when Hennessy put his foot down with Kirk to be a good partner and show me some respect, you figured it was for a romantic reason and put a stop to everything, the whole mission. I mean, that's really something else, Chuck. And to use the Intersect as an excuse?"

Chuck let out a bitter laugh in disbelief. "You seriously think I blew the op on purpose because I-I was jealous. Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds, Sarah? I mean, are you listening to yourself right now?" He pointed to his temple. "You think I know how this thing works? I don't! I don't get to control when I flash; it just happens! And then I have to figure out what it all means and relay that to Casey, or you. Is it always right? I guess not. It wasn't right today, and I'm sorry about that, but I did not fake it. You think you and Hennessy are the only ones capable of being professional…" he muttered bitterly under his breath.

"See? And there it is. Agent Hennessy is good at his job, and I know you noticed."

"Yeah, I did! So? What of it? I'm not a child, Sarah! I don't go faking flashes to get what I want."

"I know that!" she snapped. "But maybe this...this stuff with the...the thing that happened...maybe it's made things worse. You can't even handle my calling another man 'sweetie' for a mission without blowing everything. And for the record, there was nothing romantic there, even if you assumed there was. And I know you did. I saw it on your face. I just didn't think you'd pull this shit."

"I didn't pull any shit, Sarah! I flashed and then I told Casey about the flash! The flash was wrong, okay, and it had bad info. I'll even take the blame for it. But I will not let you insinuate I faked it to get you away from Agent Secret Service." He pointed in her face. "And how dare you try to say I let me emotions get in the way? I've been very controlled throughout this whole thing."

"Don't try to deny that things have been...different...since the incident, Chuck." The way her blue eyes darted to the side in discomfort told him everything he needed to know.

"Really, Sarah?" he asked a bit sarcastically. "Really? And what incident are you referring to, if I may ask? Which one? Could it be the incident where you grabbed me and kissed me right before a bomb was supposed to go off, ending our lives? Is it that one? Where you kissed me right before Bryce showed up alive again and threw everything out of whack?"

"Stop saying kiss! It happened, okay?" she barked. "And I'll admit it. Gladly."

"Gladly? Is this you being glad?" he snarked. "What are you so afraid of? You afraid I'm gonna see how rattled you've been since it happened? You afraid I'm gonna read into that? You think I've been sitting here watching you and Agent Hennessy play boyfriend-girlfriend in absolute agony like a fifteen year old hormonal teenager with a crush, but you wanna know what I think, Agent Walker?"

"No, I really don't."

"Too bad! I think you're just projecting."

"Projecting?" She scoffed. "Oh God."

"Yeah! That's right! Projecting. Ever since we kissed in that warehouse, you've been on edge. I'm not even gonna try to assume where your head is at, but playing couple with another agent had you watching me for a reaction. And while I was...admittedly a little self-pitying and maybe even envious (I'm not proud of it), I was also stuffing that down inside and letting you and Hennessy work because...because fuck Lon Kirk, that's why. Fuck his fake money and his fake charity. Fuck that guy. I was actually being professional for once, and still you smack me with this fake-flashing accusation because maybe...just maybe, Sarah Walker, that's how you wanted me to act."

He had regrets. Right as the words came out of his mouth. He'd meant it, though. He really had meant it. She was on edge since the kiss. He'd seen it. Like she was confused, pulling back, keeping a semblance of distance, unsure, struggling with the implications, not knowing how to handle it. And he understood it. But her accusation stung. Whether or not her job meant she was a mess at dealing with this sort of thing, he wasn't letting her take it out on him.

And still, he regretted his words as she stared at him, wide-eyed, her mouth falling open.

"Wow. Yeah, Chuck. You got me. I really wanted you to blow an entire op, sink Hennessy's investigation, and help Lon Kirk continue to spread his counterfeit money all over the world under the guise of a charity. That's exactly what I wanted. Just so I can know you care about me. Yep! I've been in the CIA all these years to get to this moment and be a complete jack-ass." She huffed. "Just admit you screwed up."

"I'm not admitting to anything I didn't do! The Intersect screwed up. You can even say I screwed up, sure. But I didn't do it on purpose! And I definitely didn't do it because that kiss that night gave me some sense of...I dunno, like you belong to me or something. Because that's what you're hinting at."

"Chuck, what's done is done. The kiss happened. It's over. Can we please stop talking about it?"

"You'd really love that, I know. So I'll drop it. But I have one question for you. One last question. Just a little one."

"Chuck—"

But he wasn't letting her interrupt him this time. He needed to know. "Did you kiss me that night because you thought you were gonna die and mine were the most convenient lips around, or was it actually about me?"

She was silent, just staring at him. And then he watched the mask slip over her features, and he knew it was done. Once she brought out the mask, that was it. He knew her too well. "You know damn well I'm not answering that question, Chuck. Because I think you already know the answer. But I can't pretend I'm not wondering if the whole thing wasn't just...a huge mistake."

He felt like he'd just been socked in the gut. "You really believe that?"

She bounced a little on the balls of her feet, twisting her lips to the side, not meeting his gaze. And then she pushed past him, striding towards the door. "We're not done here. You still have a lot to answer for."

"If we're not done, why are you walking away?" he barked after her, but she'd already slammed the door behind her.

Chuck shut his eyes tightly and let out a long sigh. That was bad. That was the worst. And he needed a stiff drink. Or to bash his head through a wall. Possibly both. _Fuck._

}o{

Sarah and Casey were in his apartment waiting for the debriefing. The two decided it was best if Chuck wasn't present, maybe they figure out some way this wouldn't come across as a colossal clusterfuck. They didn't think they could, but they had to try. Beckman and Graham had interesting looks on their faces. Graham looked irritated, Beckman puzzled. "What happened, Agents Walker and Casey?" Beckman asked.

"Chuck flashed, General," Casey explained. "Our decision to raid the boat was based on the information we received from the Intersect."

"Except Chuck was wrong this time," Beckman replied.

Sarah had to do something, since it was partially her fault they were in this mess anyway. Hell, Casey probably thought it was all her fault. "We think Kirk must have managed to hide the plates somehow."

"Where?" Graham asked, irritation in his voice.

"We don't know," Casey admitted.

"So, you moved in anyway?" Graham pressed.

Beckman shot Graham a dirty look. She turned to Sarah. "Is there something that might have caused Chuck to think those plates were on Kirk's boat? Anything that might have caused his flash?"

"Not that we're aware of," Sarah lied. She knew damn well what had caused that flash.

"I don't want the two of you anywhere near Kirk from now on, it isn't safe for either of you," Beckman said.

"Both of us?" Sarah asked. She needed to save this op. "But he doesn't suspect me."

"We don't know that, and we can't risk it," Beckman explained.

"So until further notice, consider yourselves benched." Graham was glaring and Beckman turned toward him with a look. She turned back to Sarah.

"Chuck has had trouble with emotions in the past affecting the Intersect, maybe you should talk to him, Sarah. See if everything is okay. That doesn't seem to be in Major Casey's skill set." She cut off the feed with a bit of a smirk.

Casey rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His heavy sigh had something extra in it. Oh, no. "Well, that was a bang-up job I did, Walker." He shifted his weight and turned to her. "All right, I'm gonna just come clean. I've been giving the moron a ton of shit the past few days."

Everything clicked and she sighed deeply. She knew Casey's immature sense of humor. So she asked, "How many Hennessy/Walker alcohol mixing jokes have you made?"

"Not as many as I wished," he admitted. He looked at her and sighed. "You know...I, uh...I heard earlier."

"Oh, God," Sarah said, burying her head in her hands.

"He...he has a point." Sarah snapped her head up in disbelief. "He wasn't the one who hid for three days." She stared daggers at him. "He wasn't the one who left her date and ran after a waiter." Sarah stared at him, this time in shock. "He wasn't the one who initiated that kiss."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, and when she got her voice back, she nearly didn't recognize the sound coming out of her mouth. "Do you ever just want to have a normal life? Have a family? Children?"

Casey nodded. "The choice we made to protect something bigger than ourselves is the right choice, hard as that is to remember sometimes." He stopped then, a far-off look on his face, and she found herself paying closer attention. "Maybe it doesn't mean you can't have both."

Sarah stared at him, his words landing hard in her gut. She swallowed. "I'll talk to Chuck. And if I can't fix this, then I'm going to ask for a reassignment."

"Walker, that won't fix anything, and we both know that. Just do what you can to fix it, okay?" Sarah couldn't verbalize her answer. All she could do is nod. "Also, I erased the earlier tapes." Sarah barked out a laugh. How could one simultaneously love and hate an assignment at the same time? She didn't know how, but she did.

* * *

 **A/N:** Are we in trouble? I feel like we're going to be in big trouble, DC. We're going to have to brace ourselves for these incoming reviews, brother.

Please review, though! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N:** *DC flipping through reviews* No Charah...no Charah...no Charah. *Looks at SC and laughs together*

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we aren't making any money off of Chuck. **It owns us.**

* * *

Chuck was sitting at the Nerd Herd desk, irritated. It wasn't fair. There was plenty he screwed up on a regular basis. He was _well_ aware of his shortcomings, but to be accused of faking a flash… He just shook his head. He saw Casey off to the side then and slowly turned toward him. The two locked eyes and Chuck held his stare. Casey started to walk toward him and Chuck turned away.

He didn't know what Casey did, and frankly he didn't care.

He was pissed at both of them. Casey had treated him like a moron...well, more than usual, and his friend had doubted him. That's what hurt, that Sarah hadn't believed him.

He had picked up his phone multiple times last night and today to text her. He had laid it down again each time, the same way he had those three days she took some time off. He had given her space, he had seen how off she was during the Bryce mission. He had seen she was off during the Hennessy mission, but the entire time she was "off" she had still been amazing. She and Bryce had been a choreographed thing of beauty when he watched them fight a few days ago. She and Hennessy had been amazing as a couple, as a _spy_ couple, and Chuck realized multiple times, he had been watching the two in awe. She could put her problems aside and be so good at her job, and Hennessy was an amazing spy, and nothing seemed to phase him. Sure, Chuck was star struck by the Secret Service agent. If Sarah wanted to call him out on that, he knew he couldn't disagree with her, but to fake a flash? …No. Just no.

"Hey, Chuck," Morgan said, strolling up to him.

"Hey, Morgs. You look better than the last time I saw you."

"Yeah, well," Morgan replied, grinning. "Anna was actually seeing her parents, and I thought she hadn't told me because she was embarrassed of me. But then I thought about you and Sarah. Man, do you know how much you inspire me?" Chuck pointed toward himself. "Yes, you. Chuck, you are you with Sarah. You don't hide you, and she likes you because of it, and if Anna doesn't like me for me, then...then she doesn't deserve me."

A slow smile began on Chuck's face, and he felt immense pride in Morgan. "No, she doesn't," Chuck agreed.

"I'm heading back to her parents' yacht," Morgan said. Chuck raised his eyebrows, amused. "Yeah, yeah. See you, Buddy."

"See you," Chuck said. He went back to work and eventually felt someone else's presence behind him at the desk. He turned around and found Hennessy standing there patiently. He studied the agent for a second.

"I feel like there is something you always want to ask me, but your two partners stop you."

"Do you use any kind of product to get your skin to look like that?" Chuck asked. Hennessy chuckled, but shook his head. "What can I do for you?"

Hennessy laid a folder on the desk. "Listen, I can't just let this go. My superiors told me it was over, but...I've put too much time into this. You seem to be the only one on this team who hasn't screwed things up."

"Hey," Chuck said, surprising both of them. "That raid was based off of intel we received at that time. It was the right call. You can't play this as a zero sum game. If you do, people get hurt. I get it, you two weren't in danger, but why leave you there one second more than we needed to if we had what we needed? I get it, we didn't, but that's not Sarah and Casey's fault."

Hennessy stared at Chuck for a second, and chuckled as he saw Chuck swallow. "You respect the hell out of those two...and me." Chuck started to reply. "Don't deny it, and may I say, they both respect you too, as do I. You...are interesting. You really aren't what I would call the analyst type, and yet I get the feeling you're the most important piece of the team."

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Agent Hennessy. I'm the least important member."

Hennessy was silent a moment. "I'm pretty sure you have two team members who disagree with you." Chuck didn't know what to say. "The photos please, Chuck. Is there anything there?"

Chuck looked at the photos and paused. "This one. Where did you get this one?"

"I took it yesterday, why?"

Chuck looked up at him. "We have to get there, ASAP. You get Sarah—she's at the Wienerlicious—I'll go get Casey."

"Wait," Hennessy said, making Chuck pause. All he could think was, _please, please, please don't pull me from this op now_. "You need to protect your main cover." Chuck grinned, and headed across the parking lot, picture in hand.

He entered the Wienerlicious and saw Sarah serving a customer. "Your wiener, Sir." Chuck watched him leave and headed to the front. He saw her swallow and prepare herself. They needed to talk, but not now. "Look, I need to talk to you, Chuck."

"Pease, not now, Sarah," Chuck pleaded, holding up the picture. She nodded. "These are the same crates that I flashed on yesterday, right here on a boat with the Taiwanese attaché. The one you saw arguing with Kirk, the one I flashed on while I was being a bad waiter." He saw her twist her lips. "He's getting away with the plates."

She looked over the picture. "You think Kirk put the plates on Rashan's boat?"

"Hennessy agrees with me," Chuck replied.

She looked up at him, and locked eyes with him. "Chuck, I don't care what Hennessy thinks. What do you think?"

Chuck nodded. "Yes, they are on there." Sarah scratched her head. "Look, I know that your orders are to stay away from this, but you have to believe me. The plates are on that boat, possibly with Morgan and Anna." She looked up at him. "Look, trust me, I wouldn't even be here right now if I wasn't 100% sure." Sarah was taking her apron off. She hopped over the counter. "What... What are you... ?"

She headed toward the door and looked over her shoulder at him. "Let's go."

He hurried after her.

}o{

Chuck pulled at the handle of the passenger side door to get in but she shook her head, popping the small trunk of her Porsche and grabbing her small overnight bag. "No, Chuck. I need you to drive."

"Your Porsche?" he asked.

She sent him a look like he'd just told her he was a creature from another planet. "No, of course not!"

Sarah ignored the amusement on his face as she slammed the trunk shut and gestured for him to go first. They traversed the parking lot as quickly as they could without full-on sprinting. Chuck had tried it and she'd had to grab him and give him a shake of her head.

Once they reached the lot on the side of the Buy More where the Herders were parked, Chuck slid around to the driver's side. Sarah opened the door to the backseat and threw her bag in first before diving in after it.

When Chuck glanced at her over his shoulder in curiosity, she gestured wildly to the wheel, already unbuttoning her blouse with one hand. "Let's go, come on! Get us out of here. I need to change; I'm not showing up dressed like a fucking fräulein."

He made a choking sound that was probably a barely disguised laugh and quickly got them out of the lot as she sank low to change.

Sarah made the calculated decision to trust Chuck wasn't going to peek while he drove as she changed into something less campy, and if he had taken a peek, there was really nothing she could do about that. She left her Wienerlicious uniform on the floor and then hoisted herself back into the passenger seat up front, shoes in hand.

"It's scary how fast you do that," he breathed, speeding through the Los Angeles streets.

She just smirked, pulling her shoes on, pushing her pigtails out of her face. And on second thought, she quickly tugged her hair ties off, too, fluffing her hair and sitting back against the seat.

Thankfully, he made quick time and she wasn't forced to say anything else. Now wasn't the best time for...that talk. She needed him concentrating on the road, and he was also probably worried sick about his best friend. There was also the fact that...Well, she'd most likely screwed up big time accusing Chuck of faking a flash. At least, they'd see what was in those crates on Rashan's yacht. But she believed him. And she also owed him an apology—a big one—if he was right and the plates had just been moved to another yacht.

Chuck screeched to a stop and they both scrambled out, racing down the steps to the dock and hurrying towards where the personal yachts were moored.

"Chuck! Sarah!"

She spun on her heels and looked up to see Casey getting out of his car. He hurried down to meet them, Hennessy not far behind.

"Casey...Agent Hennessy…"

"Yeah, yeah...I shouldn't be here," Agent Hennessy said. "This is my guy and I'm not pulling out 'til I get him."

"I'm just here for the potential gun play," Casey growled with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, she snapped, "Let's go!" and started running down the path towards the yachts, everyone else on her heels. As they turned the corner to where she remembered Lon Kirk's yacht was moored, she spotted something else moving through the water, and she knew him immediately.

Morgan was perched on the bow of the yacht, his arms spread, as it sliced slowly through the docks towards the open water. "There he is," she said, stopping at the railing.

Chuck halted next to her, and she felt him tense. She spun to look at him, recognizing the way his features twisted up, and she grabbed his wrist. "What is it?" she asked quietly as Casey and Hennessy moved closer to the docks.

"There's a GPS missile tracking device on the yacht. They're gonna blow it up," he gasped out, thankfully quiet enough that Sarah was the only one who heard him.

Why? Why would there be a missile tracking device on Rashan's yacht if that was where the plates where being kept? And then it struck her. "Oh my God," she breathed, her heart in her throat. "Casey! Casey, Hennessy!" They halted and turned to face her as she closed the distance, pulling Chuck along by his sleeve. "Chuck just spotted what looks like a tracking device attached to that yacht. For a missile."

"A missile?" Hennessy frowned deeply and turned to look out at it. "I don't see it from here."

"I have really, really good eyesight. And I'm ninety percent sure that's what it is."

"Shit," Casey grunted, turning to them with eyes wide. "Kirk's already gotten his payment. He doesn't need those plates to survive. He can just bury the evidence."

Morgan's voice carried across the docks as he yelled, "I'm the king of the wooooooooorld!"

Sarah ignored it, casting her gaze around the docks. If there was a missile tracking device, there was a missile somewhere. Then she spotted a few of Kirk's staff slowly wheeling something onto the yacht and into the cabin where Hennessy had been close to punching the counterfeit bastard. "Hey. They're loading something onto Kirk's yacht."

Casey cursed. "That's definitely a missile launcher."

"I guess we know where the missile's gonna come from, then," Hennessy added. "Doesn't surprise me Lon Kirk's gonna try to pull this off. Out in the open. Asshole never faces consequences for the shit he does. That ends now."

"They're going to follow them out and use it to take out the Taiwanese attaché's boat."

Chuck spun to look at Casey. "What? Morgan's on the boat! My friends are on there!"

Hennessy blinked. "Wait, what? You know him? Why—?"

"Explain later," Sarah said. "I'm gonna create a diversion. Hennessy, I'm gonna need your help."

The look he gave her told her he figured out what the diversion would be, at least...somewhat.

"I'll take out the guards," Casey said, much too happy at the prospect of a fight. "Chuck…?"

"Yeah, I know. Stay in the car."

Sarah wracked her brain. "No. Not this time. Come with us."

She led Chuck and Hennessy down to the dock, but pushed them both back a bit and went the rest of the way to the gangplank, squinting up at the yacht and peeling her eyes for Kirk himself. She didn't see him, but one of his staff looked down at her and disappeared into the cabin.

"Lon!" she called out. "Mr. Kirk?"

Two of his men stepped out, and then he came out himself, confused, but not altogether displeased to see her. "Hi," she said, a bit shyly. And then she winced. "Mr. Kirk, I'm really sorry, but I...I really have to talk to you."

Kirk brushed off one of his men and started down the steps towards her. "That's-That's great, Sandra. But we're, uh, actually about to push off."

"I knoooow. I know. I'm really, really sorry. Um...It'll just take a second. This is kind of embarrassing, actually." She ducked her head and pushed a hand through her hair, grinning. "I just wanted to sort of...smooth things over a bit. After yesterday."

"I'm not...offended, Sandra. Don't worry."

"No, I just...Michael...Mike gets really jealous. I know you didn't mean any harm, and he knows that now, too. He overreacted. You know? But he really didn't mean to screw up the potential deal with you. He really wants to work with you."

"Uh, I'm not sure now is, um…"

"If I could just come onboard and talk with you for a few seconds. A minute at most. Just to...clear things up."

She saw that look on his face that he'd had before, and he crossed his arms. "Uh...we can—We can talk in my cabin for a few minutes. Sure." And he reached down for her to take his hand, helping her up onto the deck of the ship.

"WELL, WELL, WELL WELL WELL!"

Sarah spun to see Hennessy stomping down the wooden planks, his hands on his hips. "I see how it is, Sandra! How could you _do this_? After the plans we made?"

She turned to face him, Kirk's hand on her elbow. Oh. Maybe she should've made sure she and Hennessy were on the same page before she just...assumed. Uh oh. "Um, Mike…? What are you…?"

"I gave you a house in the Hamptons!" Hennessy barked. "Maybe I don't have a...a fancy _yacht_ , Sandy, but I have given you a lot...of myself!"

"You're completely misreading this situation, sweetie. Go back to the office and let me fix things. You're seriously fucking this up right now," she said through her teeth. Lon Kirk was fidgeting in confusion, not seeming to want to be involved in this. They just had to keep this going.

Chuck was charging down the docks towards them now, too. Maybe she should've just let him stay in the car. Oh, God no. What was he going to say? None of them were on the same page.

"Misreading the—? His hands are all over you!" Hennessy argued loudly, drawing more of Kirk's staff closer to the railing to watch the drama unfold.

"He isn't touching me, Michael!" she snapped. "I'm trying to save your—"

"WELL! WELL! WELLLLL!" Chuck yelled, coming to stand beside Hennessy.

"Who the fuck is this?" Kirk muttered.

"And who is this?!" Chuck demanded to know, gesturing to Kirk. "I turn my back for a minute and this is where I find you? On some guy's... _yacht_?"

"Who are you?!" Hennessy asked him, spinning to face him.

"YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE, RICH BOY!"

"Will you get out of here?!" Sarah hissed at Chuck.

"No!" Hennessy snapped. "He's not going anywhere! Not until you tell me who he is!"

"Mike, I'm trying to help you! That's why I came here! You acted like such a jealous idiot yesterday and you jeopardized a legitimate deal! You're your own worst enemy!" she tried, and Kirk slowly stepped away.

"Listen, um...I don't have time for thi—"

"I WAS DEFENDING YOUR HONOR! YOU'RE MY GIRLFRIEND!"

"What?!" Chuck screeched. "Wait a second! Did she tell you—SHE TOLD ME I WAS THE ONLY ONE!"

"She told _me_ I was the only one! What the hell is this, Sandra?!" Hennessy demanded, and Chuck spun to face her too.

"Yeah, Sandraaaa!" he drawled, accusatory.

"You're both being ridiculous!" she ground out through a clenched jaw. "Mike, you're lucky I even want to help you and your security business after you acted like such a possessive jerk!"

"WHAT?! You never did this to help me with _my_ business!" Chuck yelled up at her.

"Because you work at a banana stand in Long Beach!" she bellowed, leaning forward towards them.

"I'm very proud of my work!" he yelled, turning as if announcing it to the entire dock.

"You know what?!" Kirk interrupted, holding his hands up. He put a hand on Sarah's shoulder and gently ushered her towards the plank leading to the dock. "It is time for you to go."

There was a thump behind them then and he spun. "What was that?"

She exchanged a look with Hennessy and he leapt up onto the boat right as she spun and brought her foot up to kick one of Kirk's staff in the jaw, knocking him out. Casey came around the corner and took another one out with an elbow to the temple as Hennessy brought down a third.

As she turned, she saw that Kirk had disappeared inside. But more of Kirk's men were rushing towards them up on the higher level of the deck, so she hurried up the stairs, ignoring whatever Chuck was yelling about on the docks.

Sarah was joined up on top by Casey as Hennessy moved around towards the aft deck, taking more of Kirk's men down, and with the precision of abject professionals, they knocked out the last two men.

She heard a loud _WHOOOOSH_ behind her then and spun to watch as a missile sailed out from the yacht's cabin and zoomed up into the sky. "Aw hell," Casey grumbled. "That's bad."

Sarah looked for Rashan's boat, and spotted it, still moving towards open water. It was a lot further away now, and the missile seemed to be swerving in a circle, searching for its target.

There was a loud clambering sound from the steps that led up from the cabin and Chuck hurried over to join. "Hey! Hey hey hey!" he gasped, out of breath. "Look! The rocket is guided by GPS software. All software can be reset!"

Hennessy finally joined them as well. "What the hell was that sound?" he demanded.

"Missile's headed towards Rashan's yacht, that's what!" Casey snapped.

"Can he do that?" the Secret Service agent asked, gesturing at Chuck who was already tapping at the screen of the remote. Whatever was happening on that screen, she had no idea, but she was almost certain he hadn't flashed, which meant he was doing this on his own.

"Yeah, he can," Sarah insisted, putting a hand on his back in support and just looking down at the screen.

"I...I think I…" The screen blinked and then went blank for a second. "I got it! It worked!"

"You did it, Chuck!" she said, grinning as she squeezed his shoulder, and they all watched as the missile turned course from where it'd been zooming right towards Morgan and Anna on Rashan's boat.

It was making a strange trajectory, though. As if it was doubling back. And she suddenly had a sinking feeling.

"Chuck, where's it heading now?" Casey asked. And she knew by the tone of his voice he already had an idea.

"I dunno," Chuck chirped with a shrug. "I reset it."

"You sure reset doesn't mean return to sender?" Hennessy piped up from behind them, terror in his voice.

"Oh, man." Chuck looked down at the remote. "Oh-Oh, man. Oh...this is not good."

"Ya think?" Casey barked.

"Get it away from us," Sarah said, pushing at the remote, as if making it closer to him would help him move faster. It was a stupid, pointless gesture, but she was in a panic. "Chuck, hurry!"

"I need—I need another target first! I need to program in GPS coordinates! I don't know—" His voice drifted off as they all wracked their brains.

And as if the last couple of days were bringing them towards this moment—like fate and karma were holding hands—Sarah got an idea. She leaned forward to look past Chuck at Casey. "What about Casey's car?"

"NO!" Casey barked, eyes wide. "What the fuck?! NO!"

"Casey, we're runnin' outta time here! Just tell me the GPS coordinates for the Crown Vic!" Chuck demanded.

"AGENT CASEY, COME ON!" Hennessy joined in.

Casey sent a longing look over his shoulder at his precious car.

"TELL HIM, CASEY!" she snapped.

"71477," he finally said, barely able to get it out.

Chuck immediately went to work and she thought she heard Casey whimper—literally whimper—as Chuck hit send.

"Really sorry, buddy," Chuck said, and the missile sailed right over their heads, causing them to duck it was so close, before it arched up through the air and slammed into the Crown Victoria parked up in the lot, a safe distance away from them. A fireball erupted from the middle of it, incinerating the thing, and she winced.

Maybe it was a little mean, but after the shit Casey pulled, she couldn't help but turn and shrug at him, as if saying, _That's what you get_.

"I hate this assignment," Casey groused, watching his car burn to a crisp.

Chuck turned slowly to look at him. "I said I was sorry, right?"

For a split second, she thought the NSA agent would strangle Chuck, and she and Hennessy would have to find some way to contain him. But then he just turned back with a pitiful look.

"Oh, no you fuckin' don't," Hennessy muttered under his breath, and he sprinted forward, taking the stairs down to the bottom deck three at a time. Kirk was trying to escape, making a run for it. But Hennessy was faster, and trained, and he tackled Lon Kirk to the docks with a painful-sounding crunch.

"You'll be hearing from my lawyers, you pieces of shit!" the criminal was yelling as Hennessy restrained him, cuffing his hands behind his back.

Sarah and Casey moved to follow after the Secret Service agent as Casey pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Casey. Secure. Kirk's apprehended, but we need agents to stop Rashan's boat. The plates are headed out towards open waters."

Agents Walker and Hennessy exchanged smirks and he nodded, grateful. She nodded back. Clean-up wasn't going to be fun. And they needed to get out of here before Morgan and Anna saw them. But they'd done good work. And most importantly, Chuck's best friend would be back at work the next day, in one piece.

}o{

He was over to the side, dancing, trying to forget what he was feeling, trying to forget that kiss, what it meant, what it couldn't mean. She had a job to do, that was a fact. He was crazy about her, probably in love if he was honest, that was a fact. She was amazing, that was a fact. She felt...something for him. Deep down he knew that as a fact too.

That fight in his apartment had felt awful, and the way she'd accused him of faking a flash out of jealousy had wrecked his insides. She sincerely thought he was capable of that kind of dangerous immaturity? Or was it like he'd maybe foolishly voiced that night, and she was projecting her own mess of feelings onto the situation? He knew she had a mess of feelings, because he definitely did and she...didn't seem like she was able to look him in the face and answer his question. Did that mean she'd be lying if she said she'd kissed him because he was the only one there? He thought so. And maybe that was why she lashed out.

There was a lot there, how much of it was him and how much of it was her, he couldn't know. But something was there. He wanted to explore it so badly.

But if he was honest with himself, completely honest, would he be enough for her if this whole CIA thing wasn't there? With the NSA watching him, and that Goddamn computer in his head that he both was thankful for and hated at the same time?

He didn't know if he could ever be what Sarah Walker wanted. He didn't even know if she wanted _anything_. But if he were to wish for one thing for Christmas, it would be the opportunity to find out.

He pushed those thoughts from his head. He was going to enjoy tonight. He was going to dance like no one was watching. And that was when she stepped into his field of vision, a smile on her face. Oh God. She had been watching him dance.

"Hi," he managed to get out. Was it him or did her smile intensify? "I'm glad you…" He paused to try and get control of himself. Why the mysterious smile? "I'm glad you came." She gave him a nod, the smile still stuck on her face. Was she enjoying this? Did Sarah Walker enjoy knowing she made him lose his mind on a constant basis? He really hoped she did.

"I figured with someone else DJing I might get to hear something other than Michael Bolton," Sarah replied, the smile still on her face.

He grinned at her. "I don't JUST play Michael Bolton," he replied. "I just give the people what they want."

"I don't want to hear Michael Bolton."

"But don't you?" he asked, trying to look mysterious, like he could read her mind. He didn't know if he got the look he wanted, but she laughed, and her smile didn't leave. That was a win. But then she seemed to fidget somewhat, shifting her weight, looking off to the side like she maybe had something to say, or maybe she was trying to figure out something to say.

"I got you something," he said, maybe to help her out, or interrupt the verging on awkward tension. He walked over to the tree, feeling a little nervous. He reached down and grabbed the alarm clock and a small box that was wrapped, then handed it to her. "Ta da! It's a new alarm clock. Merry Christmas...and that's some sealant for that hole that got in your wall when your knife somehow ended up lodged in there."

Her smile got even wider. "You shouldn't have."

He wished he could give her more than that, but he had decided he was going to make this as easy on her as possible. "Ah, come on," he drawled. "They're on sale in Home Electronics. Which reminds me, I should probably scan that thing before you leave the store with it." She ducked her head and looked down at the alarm clock. _Now or never, Chuck. Now or never…_ "Look, it's also kind of a... kind of a thank you for believing me when you had good reason not to."

There was the look again, her blue eyes cast to the side, shifting her weight. And she slowly moved her hands around the clock as she held it, before shaking her head. "That's the main reason why I'm here, Chuck. Because I really didn't have a good reason not to believe you. I jumped to conclusions—unfair conclusions—and I accused you of something I know deep down you'd never do. That wasn't right. I owe you a massive apology for what I said, for what I accused you of doing."

Chuck blinked. "You don't have to—"

"I really do, Chuck. Casey's really been overdoing it with...well, the thing he keeps teasing about. And maybe it's—" She huffed, biting her cheek and rolling her eyes a little. "Maybe we both let it get under our skin in different ways." Chuck gaped at her. Had she let it get under her skin? So he was...a little right? He didn't know how to respond to that. But something warm was churning in his chest. "But it's unforgivable...the way I accused you. Faking a…" She glanced both ways over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "Faking a flash because you were jealous of Agent Hennessy sticking up for me. It was such a childish reactionary leap that I made. Completely unfounded."

"Not...completely," he interrupted, his voice quiet. She frowned at him. "I mean, it isn't like I wasn't...a little jealous. Super good looking Secret Service agent with flawless skin and even more flawless work ethic. And you two...worked well together. I-I know now—and probably even knew at the time—that it was ridiculous to feel that way. All four of us worked well together."

Sarah just stared at him for a few moments, almost searchingly. "Maybe you were...jealous." She squirmed a little. "And maybe you're also kind of...Well, more emotional than any of us are really used to. But you wouldn't lie about flashing in a moment like that, when a lot is on the line. When your team could be in a lot of danger because of it. That's not you. So I'm sorry."

He smiled softly, nodding. "Thanks, Sarah. I really appreciate it. And-And apology accepted." They smiled at each other and then she twisted her mouth to the side shyly. "What?" he prompted, seeing a look on her face like she had something else she wanted to bring up.

Sarah let go of the clock with one hand and dug in the back pocket of her skirt, thrusting her closed fist between them. "I was out of line and feel bad about it, but I also feel like you deserve, well...some kind of...how do I say this?" She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and glanced to the side for a moment. "You deserve a reward. A thank you. You know, for everything that you do." He was going to interrupt, tell her he didn't actually end up _doing_ anything. But she opened her hand and thrust it closer to him, his response dying in his throat.

"A...flash drive?" He blinked. "Cool. No, this is super nice, Sarah." Grinning, he plucked it from her palm. "These are expensive sometimes and you can never have too many. Thanks."

She made a face. "Chuck, there's something on it. Something I thought you'd enjoy."

"Real footage of an extraterrestrial from Area 51?" he asked, making her giggle and roll her eyes.

"Uh, no. Not that. It's um…" Sarah stepped up closer and leaned up on her tiptoes, glancing around to make sure no one else would hear her. "Remember how I told you Lester came to my counter at the Wienerlicious to try to swoop in on me and I came on super strong and scared him shitless?"

"Yeah—Oh!" His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized what was on the flash drive. "You didn't really!" She smiled wordlessly, her features full of mischief and amusement. "It's on here? The footage? Does he pee himself?" He put a hand up between them quickly then. "No, wait! Don't tell me! I don't want spoilers! I want to enjoy this to its fullest potential."

She cracked up and shrugged. "I thought you'd like that. Anytime you're feeling down or he acts like a dick, just watch that. There's sound and everything."

"Best. Gift. Ever. Seriously, thank you. This is amazing. I'd honestly run into any seriously dangerous situation for the government if they always thanked me like this." He laughed and wiggled it between them, then shoved it in his pocket.

He waited for her amused look to dim just a little before he cleared his throat, interrupting the silence that settled between them. He wanted to make sure she understood that he appreciated her actions today, in spite of everything. "Anyway, I'm still grateful that in spite of not believing me the first time, you still took a chance on me the second time."

"Well, it's my job, you know," she said as she shrugged. "It's what I do. It's the one thing I'm good at."

He gave her an amused look. "Really?" She could not mean that. "'Cause I'm pretty sure you're good at a lot of things."

"Well, as you can see from everything that happened with Bryce, I'm not so good at relationships." Chuck thought she seemed...nervous. Really? Sarah Walker was nervous. Around him? He shouldn't like that, but he was human. Did he really make her nervous? Or maybe it was the apology. Maybe she wasn't used to opening herself up like that. And he was suddenly awash with gratefulness.

"I guess that makes two of us." The smile she gave was bigger than ever. It was absolutely infectious to the point he wanted to do whatever it took to get her to smile like that, daily. "And then that makes me good at... pretty much nothing, I suppose."

"Chuck, you're good at your job, too," she quickly disagreed. He was a little surprised at how quickly. "And not just here, fixing computers. You know, the one where you risk your life to save others; the one that you didn't ask for but were supposed to have."

"Supposed to have?" Chuck asked.

"Yes." The intensity that she said it with made him warm all over.

God, he'd love to have more, and he knew they couldn't...but he had to make sure they were at least okay. He held his hand out. "Friends?"

She tilted her head at him and gave him an amused grin. "I thought you said I'd always have a friend here?"

Chuck looked a bit uncomfortable but she took his hand. "Yeah, I just wanted to make sure with everything that happened…"

"Friends," she said softly. "Always."

They stared at each other and she started to speak, when a drunk Jeff wandered up. "Mistletoe. You'll thank me later, dude."

"Nah," Chuck said, with a grin. "I prefer someone kisses me when they want to, not when they're forced to by a fuggin' plant."

"Lame," Jeff muttered, and walked off.

When he turned back to look at her, she was staring at him, one eyebrow slightly raised, her eyes a bit wide, lips parted. And then a really slow, overwhelmingly warm smile stretched over her lips. As if realizing she was giving him a look that made him feel a little bit like he was walking on air, she ducked her head and looked down at the clock again, twisting her lips to the side. Was she...being shy? Sarah Walker, shy? Agent Sarah Walker…?

He cleared his throat then and tilted his head at her. "So, uh...things back to normal?"

She grinned. "Chuck, with you things are never normal." His eyebrows raised. "But we do this, together."

Chuck nodded.

"Together is always preferable," Chuck replied. "When you have someone with you that believes in you, and pushes you, it makes you better. I should know." Sarah gave him a look. "Before I met you, I was stuck here, stuck in my head. Now...now I guess I'm all those things you said."

She was quiet for a moment, wrestling with something. She lightly tapped his chest with her finger. "You are too important for me not to be here for you." She looked into his eyes and he knew better than to bring up the Intersect.

"So, Christmas is coming up, and since you're dating me..." He didn't miss how her eyebrows raised, and she grinned. "...You'll have to come to Bartowski Christmas."

Her eyes widened again, her grin falling away. And she bit her lip, darting her gaze off to the side. "...Chuck, Christmas with me is complicated."

"You can explain all that to Ellie," Chuck said, grinning. "How about we just dance?"

"Chuck," she whined, but was grinning as he pulled her to the dance floor.

They were dancing as Casey walked by, watching the two of them. His phone rang. "Casey," he said, picking it up.

"Major," Beckman replied. "I am calling to inform you that the beta version of Intersect computer was successful. This means the new Intersect should be up running soon. Once the new computer is on line, it will be time to take care of Chuck."

"Roger that," Casey replied watching them dance. "Walker is not going to like this at all."

"I understand, John, but if we don't…You know what the CIA wants to do to him. If he refuses, we'll do what we can."

"If Walker is given the order, ma'am?" Casey asked.

Beckman snorted a laugh. "There is no way she follows that order. If she's given it, she will run."

"And my orders if that happens, ma'am?"

There was a long pause. "Help them run."

"I understand my orders, General," Casey replied, watching the two of them.

"Oh, and... John?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Holidays."

* * *

 **A/N:** DC here. Yeah. WE DID THAT! Listen, we've been reading your reviews, we know what you want, and it's coming, we are building to something so huge WE think it will knock your socks off. I keep screaming ish for a reason, and next chapter, is the first of those big ISH moments.

Next up, the Christmas episode. Yes, you in the front with the confused look on your face. What? You say there's no season one Christmas episode? You know, the lost one. *SC whispers in EDC's ear.* Ohhhhhhhhhh….well, there is now. BOOM! Come back next time for Chuck vs the Skate….Date? …...SC….maybe you should take this over.

Please review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and reviewing. We appreciate it.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we aren't making any money off of this fic.

* * *

The next morning found her in the Wienerlicious humming "I Melt with You".

Last night hadn't been as complicated as she'd thought it would be. It was….out there, between them. ...Something. They both knew they couldn't explore it, but it was there all the same. She grinned. She knew it wasn't the right response, but he was there with her, and that made it...okay. That made no sense, but neither did what they were doing.

The doorbell rang and she saw him enter, a huge smile on his face. He pointed to the back to wordlessly ask her if Scooter was there and she nodded.

"What's that all about?" she asked, making a circling motion and pointing toward his face.

"Can't a guy just be happy to see his girl?" Chuck asked.

"Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head. "I know your 'happy to see his girl' smile, and that's not it." Her eyes narrowed at him, a grin on her face, and his smile intensified.

"Awful sure of yourself," Chuck replied. Sarah shrugged, and she swore she saw him bite his lip. She shook her head at him. "I need some food while I'm here so how about a..." His eyes glanced at the board. "Oh god," he muttered.

"What, the eggnog battered corndog not what you're looking for?" Sarah asked, smirking.

"Tell me something," Chuck said, lowering his voice and leaning forward. She leaned in as well, matching his posture, her face inches from his. "Is the Wienerlicious a government front?"

"No," Sarah replied with a sigh. "The hope is we get to buy this building—"

"The CIA, the NSA, who?"

"The government. Now hush, I'm trying to explain things."

"How come when you tell me to hush, it's nowhere near as frightening as when Casey does?"

She reached over with her first two fingers and thumb and gently, but firmly, closed his lips. He began to chuckle but stayed silent. "Now, as I was saying," her fingers still holding his lips in place. "The government is trying to buy it and put in one of those yogurt shops." He raised his hand, and she rolled her eyes in mock irritation. "Yes?" She hadn't removed her fingers from his lips and she was laughing at him.

"Hm do tha elp?" he asked, making her laugh harder. She removed her fingers and he worked his lips.

"There will be others here who cover the shop. I won't required to be here as much."

"There will be so many disappointed young men," Chuck replied. She shook her head slowly at him. "So you're telling me that it wasn't the government that came up with that crazy eggnog corndog batter flavor, but an actual business."

"It sells ridiculously well," Sarah admitted.

"But how does it taste?" Sarah gave him a look. "Come on, I KNOW you've tried it." She shook her head. "Really," he pressed, narrowing his eyes. "You enjoy adventure."

"That's not an adventure, that's a disgusting tasting heart attack," she countered. "Now why are you smiling like you are?"

"I need you," Chuck admitted.

"That's a bit forward, even if you are my boyfriend," she retorted. Chuck's eyes widened in horror, but she began to laugh with her tongue sticking out between her teeth and Chuck just shook his head at her.

"The CIA has no idea what a dork they hired." She swatted him on the shoulder with a cloth. "Seriously, it's kinda my fault."

"Ellie," she said. Chuck started to say something, but Sarah raised her phone and wiggled it.

"And here I thought you were a good spy," Chuck teased.

"Chuck, I've got people sending me the info I need without having to do anything to get it. How can you be a better spy than that?" He raised his finger twice to argue, but realizing she was right, and gave up. "So you let it slip there weren't any Christmas decorations at my place?"

"I know, I shared a CIA secret with Ellie," Chuck said hanging his head, his voice full of regret.

She looked at his head, staring down at the counter, and couldn't resist. "It's worse than a CIA secret, Chuck." He looked up at her. "It's a Sarah secret." He cocked his head slightly to the side and pouted just a little. Oh shit. That had backfired.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah."

"It's okay, Chuck, really, I was just messing with you. But what are we gonna do about it?"

"The only thing we can," he said, his grin growing. "We're gonna have to decorate your apartment for Christmas." Damn it. That grin that grew into a smile. It did something to her. She wanted to say no. She should say no.

"Okay," she said softly. "Want to tonight?" The smile fell from his face. "What?"

"It's just that, uh...uh, I have plans tonight."

"Okayyyy," Sarah replied a little confused with Chuck's reaction. "Guy's night?"

"Something like that," Chuck replied. "Tomorrow night?"

"As long as we don't have to save the country, it's a date," Sarah said. Chuck nodded. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, but didn't.

"I should go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, see you tomorrow." Sarah watched him leave, a little more bothered than she let on with that entire conversation. It was his life, and if he had plans with Morgan, then that was his business. But she was here to protect Chuck, so a good handler would see where they were going...right? Right.

}o{

Her phone buzzed and she looked down. **The gnome is alone. Do you get off on torturing these geeks?**

She glared at the phone. Casey had been on a special level of asshole since she took that weekend off. She was beginning to think that had been a huge mistake. She had asked Casey to let her know when Chuck wasn't up front so she could talk to Morgan. Casey said something about her extremely questionable taste in men. She slipped out of the Wienerlicious, made her way into the Buy More, dodged crashing into the Shawarma girl as she came out of the Buy More, and located her target.

Morgan made eye contact, gulped, and headed the other way. What the hell? She thought they were friends. She followed him, and saw him glance over his shoulder. He continued to avoid her until he went into the theater room. She went in, and found him there alone, looking upset and worried.

"Listen, Sarah, we're friends, don't get me wrong, but Chuck and I have a bond that goes back forever, and you're his girl. I-I just can't get involved," Morgan began.

Sarah had no idea what was going on, but she knew Morgan. She let her bottom lip tremble, and a single tear began to fall from her right eye. Morgan's eyes grew huge. "But...I don't have anyone else," she said softly.

"Look, Sarah, it's not you, okay. It's him, we both know that," Morgan rushed out. Sarah was still confused. "It's been... _a WHILE_ since he...well...probably since Jill…" Oh God...what had she missed? What had happened? "Listen, you two care about each other, and the best thing you can do is talk to him, okay, and he never said if….if he...beat you in the race." Oh God. "And-and if that's the case, just no cowgirl." It was official. This was her hell for all the lives she had taken as an agent. "And if he can't….you know...rise to the occasion..."

"Oh, God," she choked out.

"...just know he really enjoys that spot behind the ear." How the hell did he know that? She had figured it out, but how did he know it? "And maybe have him dress up as Aragorn and you be the...You know what? Let him tell you, it's better that way."

"Morgan," she croaked. "I just wanted to know what was going on tonight."

"Oh," he said. "Well, I don't know that I should, he said you probably wouldn't want to know." Like she had wanted to know everything Morgan had just told her. She couldn't scrub that from her brain if she tried, and deep down, she didn't want to forget some of it. "Westside Medical."

"The hospital?" Sarah asked. What had she missed? What had she not paid attention to?

"The oncology department," Morgan added.

}o{

She sat in the parking lot watching him enter the wing of the hospital for cancer patients. Some woman met him at the door and gave him a hug, a woman that was not Ellie. What was going on? Why was he being mysterious? She got out of her car and made her way inside and found the entrance deserted. She looked around and had no idea where he went.

"Sarah?" she heard Ellie ask. Sarah turned around and spotted the doctor at the entrance to one of the many hallways.

There was a mysterious smile on Ellie's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Ellie, he was being...cagey. I'm sorry. I trust him, but...not telling me things, I mean, avoiding telling me what he was doing tonight...It was just...really...unChucklike."

Ellie grinned. "No, it is very Chucklike." She paused for a moment, then shook her head. "You know what? Just come with me." Sarah nodded and followed the other woman down the hallway.

}o{

Chuck took a deep breath, turned, and looked into the mirror. What he saw would shock most people, but it had to be done. It was for the children. He had dressed his 6'4" frame in an elf suit. The door opened and Morgan came in, carrying a bag and wearing a matching elf costume.

"Got the presents, Buddy?" Chuck asked, a grin on his face.

"Right here, Chuck." Morgan paused. "Uh...I'm sorry. I think you should know something… Er, you see, uh, Sarah stopped by earlier—"

"They're ready for you!" The doctor said, sticking her head in the door.

"I could have been indecent," Morgan retorted.

"Honey, you ain't got nothing I ain't ever seen," Beverly said, a huge grin on her face. "Come on you two, the kids are waiting." Morgan looked to Chuck, who nodded.

"Ready, Morgs?"

"It's showtime," Morgan said, grabbing the bag. The two followed the nurse and headed into the children's cancer ward. "Hey, Kids," he yelled.

"That's no elf! He's too tall!" one of the children yelled out.

"He is a little tall," Chuck said, looking at Morgan. Morgan nodded sadly.

"No, not him, you," the kid said, pointing at Chuck.

"Me?" Chuck said, pointing at himself. "I'm too tall?" he asked with a bit of a quiver in his voice. "So...so I can't bring you presents?" he asked softly. "They're from Santa and everything." The room exploded with kids wanting presents. He looked over and saw Ellie, and with her was Sarah. She was inching a little bit behind his obviously amused sister, a wince on her face. Chuck KNEW he shouldn't...he KNEW...but he just couldn't help himself. The grin grew on his face, and he KNEW he'd pay later but… "Now wait, wait a minute," he said to the kids, calming them down. "I need to know. Is everyone on the good list?" The room went quiet, and Chuck grinned. "Oh, come on, I'm sure you were all good, right?" Some of the kids looked concerned. Chuck glanced around as if to see if anyone was watching and the kids followed his gaze.

He squatted down and motioned for them to come close. "So, here's what we'll do. I have it on good authority that there's someone here, who doesn't have the Christmas spirit." The kids were shocked, grunts and gasps echoing through the small group. "I have it on good authority that some people don't," he put his hands up to make quotation marks, "Do Christmas". More shocked sounds came from the kids. "So we have to make it our mission," he said, picking his words carefully, feeling Sarah's eyes on him but almost knowing inherently that she wasn't mad. "To get this person in the Christmas Spirit." Chuck looked around at all the kids. "Can we do that?" They all nodded. "Okay, now I need to go talk to your doctor, and Elf Morgs here is going to lead you in singing _Deck the Halls,_ okay?"

The kids cheered and began to sing a bit off key. Not that Morgan was much better.

Chuck walked over to the doctor. "I can't thank you enough, Chuck, every year…."

"Beverly, it's no big deal. I made a deal with Big Mike. I told him I'd fix all the computers in the back that are old and broken, and half the profits the Buy More made off of them went towards buying these kids toys. I didn't use any of my own money or anything."

"Still," the doctor said, looking at some of the presents.

"Annnndd, maybe Large Mart sold them to me at cost when they found out what I was doing," Chuck admitted.

"You're a good one, Chuck Bartowski."

"Nah, I'm just doing for them what their parents can't," Chuck explained. "Most of them have so many other monetary worries that if I can do this one thing, then...well...someone just should...you know?" He saw her nodding, but what he saw more than that was the face of one Sarah Walker. The look on her face was unreadable.

}o{

Sarah started to say something to Chuck when she felt a soft tug at her pants. She looked down and there was a smiling face looking back at her, one that had obviously been fighting a terrible disease, but the look on her face showed determination.

"Hi, I'm Molly," she said softly.

Sarah used every skill she had to hold her face still. Molly...it had been nearly a year… Molly. She squatted down to where she looked her in the eye, her elbows resting on her knees.

"What are you doing here, Molly? This is supposed to be a place for sick kids." Sarah had a warm smile on her face.

Molly giggled. "I am sick," she replied. She looked around, and then leaned in. "I'm gonna beat it," she whispered.

"I bet you will," Sarah said, pulling the little girl's robe closed gently. "You look like someone who can kick any disease's...butt."

"I am gonna kick its butt," Molly replied, a determined look on her face. "Is that your boyfriend?" she asked, pointing at Chuck.

"Now why do you ask that?"

"Because you have the look on your face that people do when they look at their boyfriend or girlfriend." Sarah had no idea how to answer that. "Does he take you skating?"

"No, I don't know if he's ever been. I went, a long time ago," Sarah admitted.

"Were you my age?"

"Mmhmm," Sarah replied. "My dad dropped me off one day and I practiced and practiced until I could skate with the best of them." Sarah didn't bother telling Molly that she was left there until the place nearly closed because her dad was off running some scam again. "I'd like to do it again someday." Sarah looked up and saw Chuck and Morgan getting ready to hand out presents. "Hey, you better head back, they're about to open presents. Merry Christmas, Molly."

Molly threw her arms around Sarah's neck. "Merry Christmas, Sarah." Molly scampered back to join the others. Sarah watched for a second, and left. She didn't know how to handle the feelings she was having. Chuck and Molly. The two people who had affected her the most in the past year. God, this job was never going to get any easier. If she was honest, she didn't know if she wanted it to get any easier.

}o{

"Hey," Molly said to Chuck.

"Hey, yourself," Chuck replied, turning around to look down to where the tiny voice came from. "What's up?"

"Your girlfriend left." Chuck gave her a look of surprise.

"My what now?" Chuck asked.

She put her hands on her hips. "I know she's your girlfriend. I'm a kid but I can tell, but that's not important."

Chuck grinned at her. "Then what is important, missy?"

"What's important is I know what she wants for Christmas," Molly replied, smiling. "And I'm going to tell you so you can make her happy."

"Why are you doing this for me?" Chuck asked.

"Because you are doing this for us," Molly replied. Chuck's eyes softened, and he thought he might cry. "Your girlfriend wants to go roller skating."

"Does she now?" Chuck replied, a thought hitting him.

}o{

Chuck walked into Casey's apartment fifteen minutes before the daily meeting, determined. Casey might kill him, but he was willing to chance it.

"What's got your panties in a twist, Bartowski?" Casey had a smug look on his face.

"Your bullshit the past several days. And you are gonna make it up to me," Chuck replied. Casey's eyebrows went up. He turned to face him, drawing up to his full height. Chuck gulped but held his ground. "You are going to report to your superiors about the rumors we heard going on about the local skating rink being a hand-off spot for stolen intel."

"Christ, Bartowski, you want me to get the US government to pay for your date?" Casey spat.

"No," Chuck replied, his face intense. "Because of you, I've been acting like a dumbass around her—okay, more of a dumbass than normal." Casey bobbed his head to agree. "YOU'VE made her life harder by what you did to me. YOU'VE made her life harder by getting me riled up. You know how I feel about her, and you knew how I would react, so don't tell me you didn't know that what happened...might actually happen, because that's what a brilliant tactician does, which is what you are...they consider all possible outcomes."

Casey had a confused look on his face. "Did you just compliment me in the middle of trying to dress me down?"

"It was unintentional," Chuck admitted, quickly. "You're good at what you do." Casey grunted. That was as close to a thank you as Chuck had ever gotten from him.

"I didn't kill you for blowing up my car," Casey countered.

"Really? This isn't about me, Casey." Casey gave him a look. "Look, I found out that she enjoys skating, okay? I'm not doing this for a date. I'm doing this because she deserves to enjoy herself, Casey, to have something good, even if it's just the one time. You do, too." Chuck reached in his bag that was slung around his shoulder and handed him a present. Casey took the present and glared at it.

"What's this?"

"A bomb," Chuck replied. "What the hell do you think it is? It's a present. I made you a CD of second line jazz."

Casey looked at Chuck and then back to the present. He held it up. "Coltrane?"

"Please, it's me."

"Miles?"

"Casey, you're being insulting," Chuck replied. "Miles Davis is a requirement." Casey grunted, and they both spun as the door open. "Heeeey, Sarah."

"Christ," Casey muttered. The screen clicked on before Sarah could say anything. Beckman appeared on the screen.

"Team, it seems the criminals have taken the holidays off, so if you don't have anything…"

"General," Casey began. He glanced at Chuck out of the side of his eye, shook his head, and looked back at Beckman. "There has been some chatter. Serious, low-level chatter."

"How low, Major?" Beckman asked.

"I overheard it at the Buy More. Some punks who I think were considering shoplifting." Beckman nodded to continue. "They were talking, and it sounded like…something we might need to look into. My gut gave me a feeling, you know?" Casey glanced at Chuck who was nodding. "Christ," he muttered again. Sarah looked bewildered. "I wasn't going to say anything, but if I didn't I'd hate myself for not passing on this intel. It sounds like there might be intelligence being passed off at the local skating rink."

"Your gut is as good a source as any, Major," Beckman replied. "I'd like you scout it out with Mr. Bartowski."

"General, I'll stick out like a sore thumb. If it's alright with Agent Walker, I think the two of them should go there for a cover date, skate around for a few hours with the Intersect and see if he flashes on anything. With his coordination if he flashes and falls on his ass, no one will think anything." Chuck heard Sarah chuckle beside him, and he couldn't disagree with her. He raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Would this be a bad time to suggest in the future maybe a skill like skating would be useful in the Intersect?" Casey turned toward him, glaring. "What? I'm just being honest."

}o{

Chuck was silent as they drove to the skating rink, which was strange in and of itself, but the fact that she'd just been talking about skating the other day and this random mission at a skating rink was tossed into her lap was even stranger.

Maybe it was one of those weird deja vu type things that happened sometimes.

She knew Casey wouldn't have brought the situation he'd overheard at the Buy More up if he didn't think it might need their attention. It was just really odd timing.

And why was Chuck so quiet? As she pulled into a parking space, she glanced over at him. "Okay, what's up with you?" she finally asked.

He seemed to jump a little, the glum look on his face morphing into an innocent look. He got a flat look in return for that. And he sighed. "I asked about the government getting us skates and they told me to rent them. Which is seriously just...gross. They can't get us skates? Really? They can make a thousand dollar suit appear out of nowhere, but two pairs of skates? Impossible. No can do."

Sarah snorted. "Chuck, that's why I told you to put thick socks on. It's no big deal."

"Yeah, well...I'm burning these after I take 'em off later. Sharing skates with, like, a million other dudes…" He unbuckled his seatbelt and smirked a little at her. "The things I do for you government people."

She shook her head and got out of the car as he did the same. As they moved to the front door of the rink, she looked up at the neon sign above the door. It was the most retro thing she'd seen in a long time—a woman wearing a dress and skates was posed next to the words "Straight Skate" and the lights blinked in a way that made it look like she was kicking her leg up.

A group of forty-somethings piled out of the door as she and Chuck stepped back. Sound spilled out after them—laughter and disco music. She wondered what Casey had gotten them into with this one, smiling in thanks at Chuck as he held the door for her.

The hallway into the rink was saturated in red light, framed pictures of skating rinks from the seventies lining the walls. And as they stepped into the main room, she cast her gaze over at the skating rink. It was massively huge, with a rotating disco ball hovering over the skaters.

Sarah wasn't sure what she'd been expecting—maybe mostly kids scooting along the walls in skates they still weren't sure how to use, maybe some pop hits blaring. The smell of stale French fries and sweaty feet?

But this was a pretty legit set-up and there were more adults than kids, she found. She supposed it made sense on a weeknight after eight-thirty.

"I'll go get us some skates," she said, grabbing Chuck's forearm and scooting him out of the way of a waitress hurrying past with a cocktail in hand. That explained why there weren't a lot of kids around. They served alcoholic drinks here.

"I'm a size sixteen," he said, and she gave him a look. "What?" he asked. "If I go big, less of the inside of the shoe part of the skate touches my feet."

"You step out onto that rink in shoes that big, and you'll fall on your face immediately." She laughed, and then pulled away before he could continue to whine. "Just keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious."

Maybe it was a little unprofessional of her, but even as she glanced around the room to see if any of the characters here set off alarm bells, she felt a bit of a thrill inside of her chest. She hadn't even worn a pair of skates for almost twenty years, she thought to herself.

Unlike Chuck, she wasn't freaked out about putting her feet in a pair of skates someone else had worn. There was something nice about skates that had already been worn in for her, and then she got to give them back when she was done.

After she paid for the skates and left the window with each pair stuffed under her armpits, she found herself scanning the place for Chuck this time. And as she wandered the worn carpet floor looking for the nerd, she felt nerves start to assail her. Was this like riding a bike? What if she stepped into this pair of skates and went out on the floor only to fall flat on her face the way she told Chuck he would because it had been so long? She had to believe that wouldn't be the case. She hoped it wasn't, at least.

And as she saw he wasn't near the food court, she spun to look on the other side of the venue only to spot what looked like an arcade, one of those fortune tellers in a box guarding the entrance.

Rolling her eyes with a huff, she made a beeline for it. Unsurprisingly, he was right inside at an air hockey table in the thick of a game against...a twelve year old. She wondered if there was an image that represented his entire existence more than this one. And then she snorted at that thought and stepped up against the table.

The boy looked up as if he'd seen her out of the corner of his eye and his eyes bugged out. The air hockey puck sank into the slot in front of him and he looked down. "Aw shit!" he groused.

"HA!" Chuck yelled, pointing with the striker still in his hand. "Seven to three, kid! I win! Your green apple Jolly Rancher is miiiiiine!" He pulled his hands back and wiggled his fingers, rearing his head back to laugh maniacally.

"Not even fair," the kid whined, picking up the Jolly Rancher she hadn't even seen propped on the edge of the air hockey table. "This hot lady distracted me." Pouting, he slid the Jolly Rancher over the table which Chuck swiped up in his palm, grinning.

"This hot lady is my girlfriend, so eat it even harder, Doug!"

The kid groaned and shuffled away as Chuck waved at him. He turned to face Sarah, his grin deepening as he set down the striker and unwrapped the Jolly Rancher to pop it into his mouth. "They always underestimate me, know what I'm sayin'?" he boasted.

"That was a child, Chuck."

"Yeah…" He shrugged.

Snorting, Sarah shook her head and thrust his skates at him. "Let's go skate."

She saw a bit of a glint in his eye as he grabbed the skates and followed her out of the arcade, past a few pool tables where people were playing and drinking frothy beers in large mugs.

Taking a seat at an empty bench against the wall surrounding the rink, they quickly put their skates on and shoved their shoes in the same cubby built into the wall. She found herself almost giddy now that the skates were on her feet, even if they pinched a little, and she giggled at the way Chuck swiped the wheels against the ground to make them spin, lifting his feet with a "woooo!"

And as she stood up, she found she was a lot steadier on her feet than she'd feared she might be after all these years. "Ready?" she asked.

There was a wince plastered on Chuck's face as she reached down for his hand. "What if I just look for slash listen for bad guy business from this bench? I went to, like, one skating party when I was eight."

"You've never worn roller skates besides that one time?" she asked.

"Nah, I had rollerblades and stuff. I just...the skating in a circle and not running into people thing has me...slightly terrified." He shrugged.

Sarah smirked, then leaned down, bracing her palms on the back of the bench on either side of Chuck's body. Their faces close, she smirked harder. "Chuck? You've had real live bullets shot at you more than once now. I promise this is gonna be a cake-walk in comparison."

He blinked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. And she hated that this disco music and the low lighting and the memory of that night in front of the not-bomb all combined to make her want to lean in just a bit more to kiss him.

"Fair point," he chirped. "Let's skate."

Giggling, she pushed herself back up to her full height and put her hand out for him again. Just as he took her hand, the DJ switched to a song she recognized from a long time ago. It roared back from the deepest recesses of her memories—sitting in a loud, smelly nineteen-seventy-something Ford Pinto with one of her dad's few tapes blasting in the interior of the car.

"It's my song, hurry up!" she said excitedly, dragging him out onto the skating rink, pausing long enough for him to recuperate from the sudden switch in surfaces.

"What song is this? I didn't know you had _a song_ ," he said, and that glint was back on his face, even as one of his feet threatened to zip out from under him. She held his arm steadily.

"I listened to this tape a lot when, um...I was a kid." She was glad the lighting was so suspect out here so he wouldn't see the change in color to her cheeks. "It's Candi Staton. You've really never heard this song? You're like...all musically and shit." She took a chance and started pulling him along with her. She was a little shaky going backwards, but she'd get the hang of it soon enough she knew, and Chuck was actually moving pretty well, even if he had to make a quick grab at her hand, eyes bugging when he nearly slipped.

"What's it called?" he asked, chuckling. "I might be 'musically', but I haven't heard, like, every single song—OOOHHHHH IT'S THIS SONG!" he exclaimed as the chorus started. He moved his hips a little and made his voice a bit more high-pitched, "Young hearts….run freeeeeee…."

Sarah cracked up and turned around so that she was facing forward, skating beside Chuck. They went slow as people whizzed past them, some of them couples, skating as though they were dancing face to face. Chuck clung tightly to her hand, and even though she could feel how clammy his palm and fingers were, she squeezed just as tightly.

She bobbed to the disco beat with Chuck, laughing as he nearly fell and shook his head vehemently once he got his footing again. "Nope. Done with trying to dance and skate. It's a good song, though. But nope to the dancing."

The song finally ended and a trance-like Donna Summer tune began. She could feel Chuck really getting the hang of it next to her, and the thrill of the air rushing past her, the music, the disco ball throwing crystal-looking lights around the room, all combined to make her feel...really good. For the first time in a while.

"God, this feels good," she said before she could stop herself. And she bit her lip as she felt Chuck turn to look at her in her peripheral. Oh well, she thought. Might as well go with it since she'd already let it out. "Do you not feel, like...I dunno...free? Freer? Out here?"

"In the moments between almost falling, it does feel freer, yeah."

That made her laugh. "Oh, come on. You're doing fine."

"You know that feeling you get when you're almost asleep and you feel like you're falling and it jars you awake? I'm getting that exact sensation every fifteen seconds or so. I'm just really good at covering it up. I've got _some_ pride, ya know." She peeked over at his cheeky grin and laughed. "You're really good at this, though. You've skated before, haven't you?"

"Maybe," she admitted. He was waiting for something else, she knew. She could feel it. She nibbled on the corner of her mouth. Feeling the heat of his gaze on the side of her face, she just...disabled the filter. For just a moment. "I loved skating when I was a kid."

She appreciated how obviously he was trying to act cool about her admission, like he wasn't about to explode through the ceiling of this place after she gave him yet another tiny piece of her childhood.

"Cool," he said, shrugging a little like it was no big deal. It was stupid how cute he was sometimes. "Cool hobby for a kid to have. Yeah. I tried skateboarding once and broke my wrist, so props for strapping yourself to a thing with wheels for a hobby." She cracked up again and he chuckled. "No, seriously." He lifted their hands that were clasped together and pointed to his wrist with his other hand. "If you put your ear up close to this wrist when I'm typing, you can hear a clicking sound."

Sarah rocked forward with laughter. "That doesn't seem right. Have you gotten that checked out?"

He chuckled and she turned back to bob to the music, crossing skate over skate as they turned the corner. It was like riding a bike. And she wanted to go faster. She wouldn't. It would be rude to just let Chuck go and start speeding around the rink without him. But then he untangled his hand from hers and gestured with that hand in front of them.

She sent him a look and he furrowed his brow back.

"I can see you chomping at the bit to go faster. Go 'head and show off, Roll Bounce. I'll be fine."

She narrowed her eyes, but when he shooed her off, she decided to take advantage of his sometimes scary-good observation skills this one time, and she took off ahead of him. She'd worn her hair down and it swept behind her as she lifted her arms up on either side of her, feeling the air rushing past her. And as she lapped Chuck, she spun to go backwards and beamed at him while she passed.

It happened two more times as he rolled his eyes and laughed at her, that glint in his warm gaze. What she'd said to him was true. It was real. This felt so freeing. And while disco wasn't exactly her favorite type of music, something about coasting around the rink to "The Hustle" just felt so ridiculous, and the ridiculousness was just...too damn fun.

But she wasn't so lost in the fun and the freedom that she missed the look on Chuck's face when she passed him again. It was very different from the warm gaze and concentration, the laughter, the teasing rolling of his eyes. His brow was furrowed, his jaw having fallen open. His body was rigid, too.

And she knew immediately that he'd flashed. Holy shit. And that was why they'd come here, wasn't it? This was a mission. Sarah slowed down, carefully making her way to him so that he practically ran into her instead of the carpeted wall, and she caught him with her hands on his chest, quickly making to grab his arm, keeping him upright.

He shook himself, looking overwhelmed and confused.

"Did you just flash?" she asked him, flattening them against the wall as much as she could.

Chuck swallowed thickly and raised his gaze to her. "Uh...yeah. Yep. I just flashed. At a disco skating rink."

}o{

"If I may borrow your 'date'," Casey said, dragging Chuck away. They got out of earshot of Sarah, and Casey pulled him close. "What the hell, Bartowski?! Did you seriously flash at that skating rink?"

"Trust me, I'm just as surprised as you are," Chuck muttered. "All I know is former FBI agent Stephen Brooks was handing intel over to Fulcrum. The Fulcrum agent was Jacob Waters, former NSA, does that ring any bells?"

"Shit, he's been MIA since a mission went pear-shaped in Nairobi ten months ago." Casey was shaking his head as a thought occurred to Chuck.

"How'd the Intersect know he was Fulcrum, Casey?"

Casey looked over at Sarah and then back at Chuck. "The belief is that in the right agent, the brain will decrypt the data that is known and come to a possible conclusion."

"Is that why my flashes sometimes miss?"

Casey nodded. "If you're in a bad emotional place…" Casey spread his hands.

Chuck nodded. "So that's why the flash was so messed up at Lon Kirk's," Chuck said, putting the pieces together.

"Bingo," Casey glanced at Sarah and grinned. He turned back to Chuck. "You really know how to show a girl a good time, don'tcha?"

Chuck shook his head. "It was supposed to be a good time, Casey, and now...it wasn't even a date, it was...letting her have fun, let her hair down, you know?"

Casey stared at him. "Christ, Bartowski, what exactly do you call a date?" Chuck wasn't sure what to say.

"Wait, you actually thought it was a date?" Casey just stared at him. "Casey—"

"Save it, we've got a new mission, thanks to you." Casey was beginning to look giddy. "I don't have to watch those stupid Hallmark movies anymore."

Chuck narrowed his eyes. "You were watching Hallmark channel movies?" Casey glared at him, and Chuck mimed zipping his lips.

}o{

Beckman came on the screen, sans Graham, and she looked a special brand of pissed off. "Team… This one, it's personal. Major Jacob Waters worked with me for ten years and to learn he has joined Fulcrum…" She looked away.

"Kill on sight, General?" Casey asked softly.

"Whoa," Chuck said, making everyone look at him.

"Mr. Bartowski, I understand your aversion to killing," Beckman began.

"General, you misunderstand me," Chuck cut in, making Casey's eyes bug out. "With all due respect, you might be too close to this. You've sent these agents here to watch my back, so let me watch yours. You might learn something from him, you might get some intel on Fulcrum, this could be a huge opportunity."

Beckman sat there a second, and glanced at Casey. He barely tilted his head, but doing so said it as plain as day: "he's got a point." Beckman nodded. "Mr. Bartowski, you are correct."

"I am?" he asked, surprised. He cleared his throat. "I mean, ahem, it's just a thought." Beckman nodded. "I understand that what will happen to him I probably won't like, but if he's selling national secrets…" Chuck trailed off and spread his hands. He looked at Sarah, who gave him an encouraging nod. "Also I figure any intel we can give the FBI of who's compromised, well, they'll owe us one."

Beckman grinned. "And I thought you were the asset, Mr. Bartowski."

"Even a blind squirrel gets a nut every once in a while," Casey grumbled.

Chuck decided to ignore that. "So how-how do we, uh, proceed?" he asked, looking at both of the agents, and then back to Beckman. "Wait for him to step out into the alley for a smoke and nab him?"

"Wait for him where?" Casey asked. "You two lost him tonight."

"Not necessarily," Beckman said. "Waters will be hard to track. But we can get somebody on Powers. He's still with the FBI. We can get a home address. We'll just have to keep an eye on him, see where else he goes."

"What if that was a one time deal, General?" Chuck asked.

"It won't be," Sarah finally spoke up. "It never is. There's no way to know where the next drop or exchange will be, but it's going to happen."

"Get some sleep for now, agents...Chuck. When we reconvene in the morning, I'll have more information for you. Casey, when I get his address, I want you to be the one to tail him. Keep us apprised."

"General." The NSA agent nodded at his orders and she signed off.

"What's next?" Chuck asked. "What do we do? Where do we go? Who do we follow? If the first meeting place was a skating rink, I bet the next one is something like...oh, Dave & Busters! Powers walks up to play skee-ball and a few minutes later, Waters sidles up next to him and starts… What?" he finally asked, seeing that they were both staring at him. "He just leaves the intel where you put the coin in and then walks away….then the other guy grabs it a few minutes later when he's leaving. Bam. Perfect exchange."

"I'm taking away your TV privileges," Casey grunted. "Get outta my apartment."

"What?!" Chuck exclaimed, shrugging even as Casey dragged him to the door. "It's a legit theory!"

Casey waited for Chuck to follow Sarah out into the courtyard and slammed the door in their faces.

"Look, Chuck...you did good work tonight. Your flash could get us a leg up on Fulcrum. If we play our cards right."

He nodded and she smiled at him, shrugging her jacket on and pulling her hair out of it. "Thanks for saying it." She had no idea how coincidental the situation had been though. Because she thought they were there for a mission. It was damn crazy. He'd say fortuitous except that it interrupted a legitimately fun time.

"G'night, Chuck," she said. "We'll reconvene in the morning, like Beckman said."

"G'night." He watched her go, but then he just couldn't help himself. "Hey...Sarah?"

She turned on her heel and faced him, fixing the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Did you have fun tonight?"

It almost looked like she didn't know what to say to that, like he'd surprised her with the question, and she dropped her gaze to the ground at her feet for a moment, before she lifted her blue eyes to his and smiled quietly. "I had a lot of fun, Chuck." She wrinkled her nose. "But don't tell anyone, huh? I'm not sure I was...supposed to."

He grinned as she smirked and turned away again, leaving him alone in the courtyard. "Oh, you were," he said to himself, sticking his hands in his pockets and feeling pretty good about what he'd accomplished.

* * *

 **A/N:** Good luck getting "Young Hearts Run Free" out of your head once you listen to it. More disco skating coming soon.

Please leave reviews. Thanks!

-SC and DC


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N:** Trying to get these out a lot faster than once every few weeks. It ain't easy, but I'm trying. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy the rest of this skating rink mission that is very much not canon. -SC

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we aren't making any money from writing this fic.

* * *

She was on her second listen-through of "Young Hearts Run Free" when her phone rang. Stopping the song, she grabbed her phone from the break room table and answered it.

"Yeah, Casey?"

"You clear?"

She smirked. "If the Wienerlicious break room is clear, then yeah."

Her partner grunted. "I've got an update on Powers, and you've got another date with that skating rink."

Frowning, she sat up a bit straighter. "What do you mean?"

"That is _the_ meeting spot for Waters and Powers. But Powers doesn't just hand intel to Fulcrum through our bad ex-NSA MIA asshole. He's also been getting paid to run cover-ups for Arnold Bustamonte."

She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she asked anyway. "And who's Arnold Bustamonte?"

"Drug smuggling, money laundering, the usual criminal enterprise. He's got his own operation working out of the skating rink. You don't think a place like that can still run with just ticket sales and skate rentals and that shitty cotton candy machine they got in the food court, do ya?" Casey let out a snort. "Should'a known somethin' was fishy."

"So is Fulcrum working with Bustamonte's operation?"

"Well, Waters is Fulcrum. When he shows up, it's for Fulcrum business, but he only meets with Powers. So it's still unclear. But I was following our little feeb cockroach and he goes to that rink nearly every night. At least, he went last night, the night before, and the night before that was when Chuck flashed on him." She heard shuffling on the other side of the phone. "Beckman sent me a dossier on Bustamonte. He's been to prison three times for laundering, theft, drug possession… If we can get somethin' on him this time, connect him to Powers, and to Waters, maybe we can put his ass in prison for a lot longer this time."

"All right, so what's the plan?"

"You and Chuck go skating again tonight, except this time, Chuck's going to see if he flashes on any of the employees. We wanna know every last person at Straight Skate who's a part of the operation—whether they pop popcorn, DJ, or empty the trashcans."

"You realize that could mean he flashes dozens of times, right? Can a human brain handle that?" she asked, letting him hear the worry in her voice without realizing it. "I mean, is he gonna be okay? Do we know what that'll do to him?"

"Don't worry, Walker. His head isn't gonna explode. We need as much evidence as we can get to bring these assholes in. And from there, we can take out one of Fulcrum's biggest double agents."

She huffed and nodded. "All right. I'll bring Chuck back to the rink tonight."

"I'm comin' along this time. You might need some back-up. I'll wait in the van and listen in, but if everything goes to plan, we can make some arrests and this time tomorrow, we'll have Waters and Powers in separate rooms in an underground bunker. We'll make 'em spill the beans on Fulcrum." The snicker he let out made her roll her eyes. She was glad this guy was on her side.

}o{

"You want some popcorn?"

He watched as the corner of Sarah's mouth turned up. "I don't know if I want this place's popcorn."

"N-No, I mean, you can get whatever you want. But I thought it'll get me close so I can…" He pointed to his head. "Ya know."

She smiled a little harder. "I know. I was messing with you. Let's go."

Oh.

Sarah wasn't quite as loose as she'd been the other night when she came to pick him up. And instead of them getting into her car, they climbed into the van with Casey behind the wheel. He handed them ear pieces as he parked in the furthest corner of the lot, and then they left him behind to head inside. It set the tone for the night.

This didn't feel as free as the other night had. And Sarah was tense.

"You flash on anyone yet?" Casey's voice was in his ear suddenly.

"Nope," he chirped. "But I am suspicious of this kid sitting in the food court. He got four scoops of ice cream. Something's not right with that picture."

"Just focus," Casey growled. But he heard Sarah snort a little as they made their way to the counter.

The kid with the paper hat saw them and held up a finger as he finished filling the popcorn machine. As he walked over, Chuck leaned in a little and glared, trying to flash.

The kid just gulped. "Uh...h-hi. Can I get you...somethin'?" Chuck narrowed his eyes even more and the kid squirmed in discomfort. "We...we have a deal tonight. You get a, um, a box with popcorn, candy, and a slice of pizza for twelve bucks."

He felt Sarah nudge him and he shook himself a little. "Sweetie, I want M&Ms, remember?"

"Uh...Oh…Yeah." Chuck cleared his throat. "You look like someone I used to know…" He read the kid's name tag. "...Chad."

"Oh. Heh." The kid gulped again, then reached inside of the glass counter and grabbed some M&Ms.

Chuck paid for them and handed Sarah the bag. As they moved away, he put a hand on her upper back and leaned in close. "I didn't flash on him."

"Well, yeah, he's like...sixteen."

"Hey, all the best crime families start 'em young. Gotta train 'em early, get them integrated into the family, the clan motto, loyalty, and all that other stuff."

Sarah gave him a look. But she seemed to be used to him enough that she just shook her head and continued on. "You can't keep giving people weird looks like that, Chuck. You're gonna get someone sicking security on us and that won't help."

He shrugged a bit glumly. "I don't know how to make this thing go. Like, do I look at 'em really hard? Or is it something that just...happens? I still don't know."

Sarah nodded.

Something occurred to him then. "I have to wonder, does this mean none of these skating rinks can survive on skate rentals and soggy popcorn alone? Like, Roller Town down in Encino… Were they packing drugs into popcorn machines at that place? Are these all fronts for a criminal enterprise?"

"I highly doubt it, Chuck."

"Hey, numbnuts. I said focus. Stop running your mouth," Casey growled.

Chuck growled back. "I'm having a conversation with my girlfriend. You don't think it'd look a little weird if a couple was just walking around staring at people but not talking to each other? Come on."

Sarah raised her eyebrows and sent him a bit of a smirk. "He's got a point, Casey."

There was a grunt in his ear. "Yeah. He might. Fine."

"Guess you'll just hafta grin and bear it, huh, Case?"

Sarah was grinning as she tugged on Chuck's sleeve, mouthing, "Don't push your luck."

Luckily Casey didn't respond and he thought maybe he'd gotten away with one there. But Chuck was a bit unsettled by the way the silence felt suddenly, and he felt Sarah's fist tighten a bit in his sleeve as though she felt the same way.

"Casey?" she asked.

It was silent for another few seconds, and then he finally piped up again. "Message incoming from Beckman. Arnold Bustamonte has someplace where he prints counterfeit money. They've already raided a few of his warehouses. No printers. They think it's done in one of the back rooms here."

Chuck whistled under his breath. "Counterfeit money? Again? You'd think these guys could be a little more original."

Both Casey and Sarah ignored him.

"There are back rooms, then?" Sarah asked.

"Mhm. Should be. Behind the rink."

Chuck frowned. "How are we supposed to get back there?"

Sarah slid around in front of him, forcing him to stop, and she popped an M&M between her lips a bit cockily, smirking as she chewed. "Chuck, c'mon. Look who you're with."

As she spun on her heel and gestured with a flick of her head for him to follow after her, he couldn't help muttering, "I'm lookin'."

Sarah seemed to ignore it, if she heard it at all, but Chuck heard Casey's quiet, "Oh God".

They walked around the rink as if they were going to rent some skates, Sarah casually munching on her M&Ms, even offering him the bag. He reached in and took a few, putting them in his mouth and chewing. "Thanks."

And all the while, he knew she was working out their entry into the back rooms. If they got in and found the proof, Chuck assumed Casey and Beckman had troops or whatever at the ready to raid the place.

The only problem was that he hadn't spotted Powers or Waters yet. And he had to figure that this whole mission would be a bust if they didn't pick up the ex-NSA agent or the current FBI agent who were double dealing in serious criminal activities. And that also would mean that his idea during the briefing after his first flash the other night wouldn't be coming to fruition. They wouldn't have a Fulcrum agent to get intel out of.

He was going to bring that up when Sarah turned again and stopped him with a hand on his chest. But the hand started pushing then, and he found he was pressed up against the wall next to the skate rental window, the door to the back rooms a mere three feet away from them. And Sarah had her free arm slung around his neck just like that, her front pressed up against his. She tilted her head and grinned up at him flirtatiously, her fingers lightly playing with his hair. And then she moved up to brush his ear with her lips.

"Saw Waters. Behind us. He's going into the back. Play along." She lowered herself from her tip toes back onto her heels and giggled. He grinned and giggled back, unable to keep himself from taking a quick glance up where she'd indicated.

Jacob Waters and two men with insanely wide shoulders that were practically busting the blazers they wore made their way past the skate rental window and went straight into the back. Chuck turned his lips against her ear and wrapped an arm around Sarah to make it look like they were being an annoying PDA couple. "Doesn't look like the door is locked. They walked right in."

He pulled back, trying to control his heart rate, the second Waters disappeared through the door and it shut behind him.

Clearing his throat, he smoothed his hand down his shirt. "That—Good—Good thinking. Good to know that doesn't just work...in...um…" Sarah sent him a bit of a smile and gestured for him to follow again, heading for the door. "In the movies," he muttered to himself, letting out a harsh breath and following after her.

He supposed she didn't have an epic distraction plan, or a plan that meant stealing Straight Skate uniforms to sneak in. Since she literally just grabbed the door handle, opened it, and walked right in.

Chuck went after her, his heart rate picking up again, but for a completely different reason this time, and they found themselves in a long hallway that was empty, thankfully. Sarah took her phone out and took a few pictures. "Yeah, this place doesn't look like it's your average skating rink back here," she said.

"Nope. It's...a bit...Sopranos looking." Chuck cleared his throat.

"S'that mean?" Casey asked. "You in the back?"

"Mhm," Chuck said back. "Pretty sure all of these rooms lining the hallway are...ahem...private rooms."

"What are you goin' on about?" Casey asked.

Chuck was going to keep teasing him as Sarah grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the hallway, but she interrupted. "Casey, this had to be a strip club."

"No fun," he muttered at her and she sent him a look.

"Oh, Jesus," the other man groused. "I'll try to scrounge up some details on the history of the building. God damn it."

Chuck bit his lip to keep from snickering, but he sobered quickly as Sarah started trying doors, peeking in, turning on lights, taking pictures, and then moving onto the next one.

"Hey!"

They both spun, Chuck's heart getting caught in his throat, and a very angry man walked down the hallway towards them. The second his eyes settled on the bald middle-aged man, the flash came over him. Sammy Morgan, one of the Morgan brothers, spent twenty years in state penitentiary for murder. Tied to Arnold Bustamonte, and...Chuck blinked a little and reared back as he tried to make heads or tails of the information.

But Sarah stepped up and smiled tentatively. "Oh. Hi, um...do you work here? Where are the bathrooms?"

"Sure as shit not back here, lady. Get the fuck back where you belong. You didn't see the sign that said employees only?"

"We...didn't pass third grade reading," Chuck joked. "Sorry, sir. We're, uh, we're…" But the second Sammy Morgan arrived in front of them and flicked his dark eyes at him, Sarah attacked like a damn viper, and the guy was leveled, unconscious on the ground. Chuck turned to blink up at Sarah again as she tossed another M&M in her mouth. "Holy shit."

"Let's do this quick," she muttered, shoving the candy back into her pocket and grabbing his arm, running down the hallway and dragging him with her.

"Hey...Hey, that guy is a murderer. I flashed on 'im. He might have connections to Fulcrum, too. I-I mean, the flash made me think that's the case."

"Good. Casey, you still there?"

"Yup. I've already got agents waiting to bust in the back door. Just give me the word and we'll come in."

"The word being, 'Hey, we found the printers?'" Chuck asked.

"Somethin' like that."

Sarah reached down and put her hand on the doorknob of the last door in the hallway, pressing her ear to the wood and putting a finger to her lips to shush him. A chill went through him as he heard the voices.

Was Waters meeting with Powers in there? Was Bustamonte in there with a bunch of armed criminal dudes? Was he about to be riddled with bullets?

Sarah put her arm around him and moved him to the side, out of the way of the door. And then she went to the back of her jeans and put her fingers against her gun there. She froze then, ducking in next to Chuck against the wall and letting out a nervous breath. "This is not gonna go well," she whispered. "Casey, you hear me?"

"Yep. You find the printers?"

"We aren't sure. We found a shut door, and I'm pretty sure they're in there, along with Waters, maybe even Powers and Bustamonte. But I don't know for sure and if I go in there, well…" Her eyes swept over to Chuck's and held fast. "Chuck's here, Casey. I can't go in there. You got any ideas?"

"We can just send in my guys and take the risk."

"It will fuck everything up if the printers aren't there. For all we know, nothing illegal is going on here tonight or they've cleared out the evidence already, having gotten word that the other warehouses were raided."

Chuck wracked his brain as Casey made a thoughtful grunt.

"Maybe just clear out, Walker. Wait for 'em to leave, then sneak in. They're bound to all be armed in there. Can't risk the Intersect."

Chuck glowered as Sarah looked up at the ceiling hopelessly and sighed. And that was when she turned to look at him. "Hey...nerd. You got any ideas?"

He didn't let himself dwell too long on the fact that she'd just looked him right in his face and asked him for input on the mission. Dangerous men were on the other side of that door, men with weapons, men who'd killed before if the unconscious guy down the hallway were any indication of the types of guys his friends were.

But he had an idea. Casey and Sarah both told him life wasn't like the movies he'd grown up watching. He wasn't James Bond. He wasn't Maxwell Smart. ...But he had a Maxwell Smart-esque idea. He could get shot about thirty-seven times...or...this could work…

She'd asked him if he had any ideas. She'd asked him because she thought he had something to offer here. More than just the super computer in his brain. So he let out a long breath and nodded. She raised her eyebrows. "Do you trust me? Because I'm gonna need you to trust me. And stay right here."

Sarah stared at him, her eyes hard.

"The hell are you up to, Bartowski?" Casey growled.

He ignored him and stared back at Sarah. "Trust me."

She looked like she was maybe afraid she'd regret this, if she lived long enough to… But she nodded. _She nodded._

And in spite of not being particularly religious, he did the sign of the cross, turning back to the door and putting his hand on the doorknob. God, he was fucking insane. Batshit. Insane.

He opened the door and stepped inside, and immediately found at least six guns pointed at him. He held his hands up by his head, a habit he'd only recently gotten into when having guns pointed at him, and then he gestured out the door behind him. "Guys! Sammy's down! I was just comin' back from takin' a wiz, an' he's out there on the ground in the hallway!" he said, affecting a Cagney accent.

Powers and Waters were the closest to him. They turned and exchanged confused looks. Then Waters spoke up. "What d'you mean, he's down?"

"Someone got 'im! That's what I mean!"

"Who got him?" Waters demanded.

"How the hell would I know?" Chuck snapped. "Somebody did! Go look!"

Everyone seemed to pause, and then Bustamonte nodded his head to two of his guys, and they wordlessly followed orders, opening the door a bit wider to head out there. Chuck hoped Sarah was prepped for company, but he couldn't look to see.

"Better question. Who the hell are you? Who's he with?" Bustamonte asked, looking at Waters and Powers.

"Excuse me, I'm a little offended, who the hell am I… You don't recognize the third Morgan brother?" he asked, pronouncing 'third' like 'thoid'. He pushed his arms out in a bit of a Fonzie shrug. "Cahm ahn. Sammy, and Danny...and I'm Manny! Caaahm ahhhhn!"

As he turned his gaze onto Bustamonte again, he spotted a tattoo on his hand that held the gun, between his thumb and his pointer finger, right under the barrel of the pistol. It triggered the Intersect immediately. "Mr. B, those printers behind you came from Russian emissaries," he said a little loudly, hoping Casey was still hearing him. "Remember? My brothers told you they were bringing me on, right?"

"Nobody told us shit, pipsqueak," Powers said. "I don't trust this guy. I shouldn't be seen here. I've still got my job at the Bureau."

Chuck flashed on him as he stepped forward, his badge under his jacket being revealed for just a split second...it was enough to catch the attention of the Intersect. "You think I'd know about the hit job you and Danny pulled a month ago if I wasn't Manny Morgan?"

Powers stilled. Why in the hell was it taking so long for Casey's agents to arrive?

"Kill 'im!" Bustamonte exclaimed.

"No, don't kill me! Don't shoot!"

"Who the hell is this guy?"

"He says he's a Morgan brother!"

"Why the hell aren't Vega and Jeppson back yet?"

"Fine, if you aren't gonna kill him…" Bustamonte shoved one of his men out of the way and lifted the gun, but then there was a loud slam out in the hallway, and the room was rushed by uniformed agents who fanned out behind him, barking orders for everyone to drop their weapons and get down on the ground.

Chuck felt hands on his back and he was forced to the floor, his arms twisted behind his back.

"No, no! No, no, no! I've got this one!" Sarah was there suddenly, pushing the armed agent off of Chuck. He expected her to help him up, but instead, he felt cold metal around his wrists. "He's dangerous! This one belongs to the CIA," she snapped, flashing her badge, and then she tugged him up to his feet with a grunt.

"The hell you think you're doing? I'm with the FBI. You're interrupting a—a sting operation!" Powers tried. But he was ignored, yanked to his feet and shoved out of the room along with the others.

Sarah held onto Chuck's hands with a hard grip of her fingers, her other hand clamping down on his shoulder. "Manny Morgan, you're coming with me. We've got some things to talk about."

He sent her a look over his shoulder, his brow furrowed, and she widened her eyes.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, guiding him out of the room.

"Y-Yeah. I'm okay. That was so crazy!" Chuck hissed, letting out a laugh in disbelief. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Uh…" Sarah let out a huff. "Me, neither." Breathless, she grinned at him and patted his shoulder. "Come on. I think the NSA's got this situation in hand. Let's get out of here."

"Um." He gulped hard. "Maybe somewhere with alcohol? Smelling salts?" He swayed a little as the reality of how easily he could've been gunned down actually hit him, the adrenaline gone. But Sarah was there to hold him up.

She let out a soft chuckle and guided him out of the room. "You've earned the biggest drink there is. Casey's paying."

"I am not!" he barked as they walked past him towards the back door. He followed after them with an offended look, his hand on Chuck's other shoulder. "That was batshit crazy. Ain't no way I'm rewarding him for that. You could'a gotten yourself dead, you moron."

But Chuck saw the impressed look of respect on his face anyway as he finally led them through the parking lot to the van. Agents were clearing the skating rink, sending people to their cars.

"Maybe, um, maybe we don't let Beckman in on this little stunt though, eh?" Casey said then as they got on the other side of the van and Sarah uncuffed "Manny Morgan".

"Agreed," both Sarah and Chuck said, at the same time. They exchanged a look and he saw not just amusement there on her stunning face, but an even more impressed look than the hint he'd gotten from Casey. And maybe some awe—was it awe that he'd thought of it, or awe that he'd done something that insane and survived, awe that it actually worked?

It didn't matter. It was awe. And hopefully she felt like she'd been rewarded for trusting him.

As much as his fingers and toes were tingling in a really bad way, he felt pretty good about the way this mission had gone.

}o{

The debriefing went longer than Sarah'd expected it would, with Beckman asking more questions than she usually did, that slightly narrow-eyed look of hers that said something just wasn't adding up in her mind.

But Casey handled it like a pro, which made her think he'd had a lot of practice hiding things from the General over the years. And General Beckman'd probably had a lot of practice plugging her ears, covering her eyes, and pretending she wasn't noticing something was amiss. It spoke of a level of trust there between them, an unspoken trust that was sturdy and steadfast...and Agent Walker felt an unmistakable sting of envy in her. There never had been anything like that with her and the director. There never would be.

"One last thing before we sign off…" the General was saying. "How did you know those printers were in there when you ordered your men inside? Because I know you'd never take that sort of chance if you weren't sure you'd find the printers." She gave him a bit of a flat look over her glasses, lowering her chin.

"No, General. Of course not. We had eyes on the printers. It's why I led them into the building."

"Had eyes h—You know what?" The General swept her gaze back and forth between the three of them, and while she and Casey probably had their usual professional masks on, Chuck probably had his 'Nothing's wrong here, we're not hiding anything' look that very clearly did the opposite of what it was supposed to do. "I'm just going to leave it there. I don't want to know. Good work, everyone. We'll be in touch."

"Thank you, General," they all chimed, and then the screen went blank.

Chuck let out a harsh breath and chuckled in relief. "I thought she was gonna ask. I really did." But then he paused and shivered a bit, shaking his head. "Man, that place was a trash heap once you moved past the groovy disco music. Like, no wonder the lights were turned down all low. I bet in the daytime, it's pretty clear it used to be a second rate strip club."

"You ever see a first rate strip club?" Casey shot back.

"I mean, it was clearly seedy. Like really gross…"

Both she and Chuck turned to give Casey a slow amused look and he grunted in annoyance. They just kept staring at him. And he finally snapped. "I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WHEN I PICKED IT OUT FOR YOUR LITTLE SKATE DATE! COME ON!"

She almost laughed, but then something he said got caught in her brain. She narrowed her eyes, then stepped out in front of both of them, slowly turning to face them. Chuck had that face again. Casey just crossed his arms.

"Skate...date?"

Chuck cleared his throat. "You know, the mission."

She pointed at him. "Don't even try it, Bartowski." His eyes widened and he pressed his lips together. "When you say _you picked it out_ for our skate date, Casey…"

Neither of them said anything. It wasn't hard to put it together, though, just based on the look on Chuck's face, and the fact that she knew him well enough by now after the last few months to know exactly how he operated. She didn't put it past him to set something like this up with Casey, especially after Casey's mean teasing when the secret service agent requested their help.

And she realized now that it wasn't a coincidence that Casey had a tip that brought her and Chuck to a skating rink right after she'd talked about skating with the little girl in the hospital. God damn it, Chuck Bartowski.

"Wow. Really?" she asked, eyeing both of them. And then something else struck her. "Wait a minute. Wait. Wait, are you telling me you guys just _happened_ to pick out a skating rink to take me to that was a front for a big time criminal organization and had Fulcrum intel exchanges taking place in the back rooms?" Neither of them answered. "Oh my God. ARE YOU SERIOUS? You accidentally picked this skating rink out of the dozen or so skating rinks around here?"

Casey shrugged. "...Uh yep."

"That's about it, yeah," Chuck mumbled.

"S'the first one in the phonebook."

Chuck did a double take. "You're the only person I know who still uses a phonebook."

"They're helpful," he growled back.

Chuck made a doubtful sound. "Are they still? Or did that kinda fade out in, like, the nineties?"

"I can still kill you with a phonebook. In twelve different ways."

"Only twelve? Huh."

"OKAY, STOP IT!" Sarah snapped, getting tired of looking back and forth between them as they bantered. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is ridiculous. You both realize how stupid this was, right?"

"We ended up getting a Fulcrum double agent, well...ex-double agent…"

"And the crooked FBI guy. Also stopped an illegal counterfeit operation."

"All counterfeit operations are illegal, moron," Casey growled.

"W—Oh. That's true."

"You wanted to take me on a date to a skating rink, Chuck, and you made Casey help you by faking intel so that we'd have a reason to go there. That's so insanely unprofessional! I'm shocked at both of you!" And she didn't know why there was a stupid pool of warmth deep in her chest even as she stared at them in complete and utter disbelief that they'd seriously pull shit like this.

"Casey, come on! You know better. I'd expect a stunt like this from Chuck because he's a civilian and still obviously doesn't understand how serious all of this is…"

"Hey, I'm standing right here…" Chuck tried and she bulldozed through him.

"But you shouldn't be encouraging this. What if something had happened to him? To any of us? All because Chuck wanted to take me on a date! God, if Beckman knew...if any of our superiors knew about this…"

"They don't know," Casey said with a shrug. "And they ain't gonna know. It worked out. And anyway, as much as I tease about it, the kid was just doin' somethin' nice for ya. No ulterior motive."

Chuck was smart enough not to tack anything onto that. And as mad as she was, she felt it almost fading. Almost. It was mostly just frustration. They'd played games around her, and yeah, that pricked at her pride, but she didn't like that she'd thought this was a legitimate mission the whole time and it was just a ruse to get her to the rink. She knew why they'd lied to her. If they let her in on it, she wouldn't have done it. And in spite of Chuck's flash towards the end of the night, she'd...genuinely had the most fun than she'd had in what felt like ages. She'd felt the chains fall away for a few hours.

She felt cared about. And not just by Chuck. Damn it, her insides were melting.

"Well, we're all lucky no one died. Especially you, Chuck, with that insane move you pulled back there."

"It was insane and stupid, but...a little impressive."

Chuck sent Casey a big, surprised grin and got a nonchalant shrug back.

Casey really had to quit encouraging—Oh hell, they were both encouraging him, weren't they? And maybe it was something they'd have to tackle, something that could get them into a lot of trouble if they didn't nip it in the bud… But this was all just crazy, how it had all worked out, the puzzle pieces fitting together, and now they'd given the CIA and NSA a big Fulcrum player.

Sarah shook her head and waved her hand at them. "I have an early morning tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

"Are we in trouble?" Chuck asked as she walked towards the door. She sent him a look over her shoulder and he winced. "We're in trouble. I think that was pretty clear," he muttered to Casey.

She'd gotten to the gate leading out of the courtyard, filled with a conflicting confusion of emotions, when she heard him call her name quietly. She'd known he would follow her, hadn't she? He couldn't let things lie. She imagined he'd be up all night worried and stressed if he thought she was angry with him, and so he'd follow her to smooth things over to the best of his ability.

The bad thing was that she wasn't sure if she wanted to let him smooth things over or not. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be mad, or if she _should_ be mad. She wasn't sure if she was being a terrible agent and unprofessional by being...well, heart warmed by the gesture in spite of the insane situation that had come from it.

And now she'd have to figure it out. Quick.

She turned to face him as he joined her outside of the gate on the sidewalk that led to her car. She lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips, pulling them to the side. "Walk me to my car?" she asked.

Chuck turned to look over his shoulder back into the courtyard, and then he spun back to meet her gaze again. "Sure. Yeah. Of course."

And they strolled slowly, shoulder to shoulder. Chuck stuck his hands in his pockets, staring down at the sidewalk. "I know what Casey and I concocted was dumb, and not cool, hiding it all from you, going behind your back. But I-I wanted you to have a night—just one night—where you didn't have to be the steely-spined CIA agent for once. I mean, where you could just be yourself and have fun. Not that you aren't usually yourself. I'm not saying that. But you're penned in by your job one hundred percent of the time, always on call, always alert, always looking over your shoulder. Most people...you know, they go to work, come home, and they can unwind, separate themselves from that headspace. You are always having to be on, constantly, all the time. So I sorta...I roped Casey in. The ploy to get us there was Casey's idea, and he did pick the rink that was formerly a crappy strip club, so that one is on him. But I take responsibility for the whole of it. I think he felt like he owed me for...you know." He scratched behind his ear, looking a bit remorseful. "But the thing is...I feel bad that we went behind your back and lied about why we went that first night. But I don't regret it at the same time, 'cause I feel like you needed that. You kept talkin' about how free you felt skating. And I was watching you…you just looked, I dunno, unbridled." He winced.

Sarah sighed heavily, unable to ignore the way her heart beat so hard that her whole body seemed to be thrumming with it. "You can't do this, Chuck. You can't set up fake ops just to take me out on a date. It's not ethical, first of all, but also...God, it's just not safe. Okay? As much as…" She shouldn't say this. She was going to, but she shouldn't. "As much as you're right. I did need it. I'm not sure I deserved it, but I needed it. And it did feel really good. In spite of the air in there being filled with stale popcorn and hotdog smell, I felt like I could really breathe for the first time in a while."

A small smile tilted his mouth. "Did you?"

"Yeah. So...while I'd prefer you never do something like this again…" They arrived at her car and she grabbed his arm, facing him and pulling him to face her. "Thank you. You're absolutely insane. But thank you. Please never, ever do something this risky for me again."

He held a hand up by his shoulder as if pledging to her. "I promise I won't. But...you're welcome." He lowered his hand. "And for the record, what Casey said in there was right. I wasn't trying to take a beautiful woman out on a date without her knowing that was what was happening. I was trying to give you—my friend, someone I care about—a night of freedom from her job. All of your jobs that come _with_ the job. For once, it had nothing to do with…" He cleared his throat. "Well, us." She gave him a bit of a look and he wrinkled his nose, narrowing his eyes guiltily. "Okay, maybe a tiny...teeny tiny bit. But mostly it was just for you."

She surprised herself (and him most likely) by throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Shutting her eyes, she felt his hands slowly come up to rest on the small of her back, and just like that, his arms slid around her torso and he hugged her back, squeezing her in a way that made her feel...oh hell, it made her feel so safe. She could at least admit it to herself silently.

"You're an incredible friend, Chuck. I hope you know that. Reckless and sometimes...downright rash. But you're such an incredible friend." She squeezed him harder, letting herself get a little lost in it for a few seconds, and then she slowly pulled back, sending him a small smile and fixing the collar of his jacket.

"I do what I can," he said, smiling warmly. His hands fell away from her waist and hung at his sides, before he stuffed them back in his pockets. "Drive safe."

She paused at the driver's side of her Porsche and sent him a bit of a searching look. "I just want to drive home the point of this talk. Don't do something like that ever again. You heard that part, right?"

He held both hands up. "Yes. Loud and clear. I'm also a really good friend and you had the best night ever and you're super grateful. But also...never do it again."

Chuckling, her shoulders bouncing a little, she sent him a faux glare and got into her car, revving the engine and pulling away. She kept her eyes on him standing there on the sidewalk in her rearview mirror, smiling to herself. In spite of everything, she was smiling to herself.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is one of my favorite chapters because I got to type Caaahhhm aahhhhhnnnn a whole bunch. It really doesn't take much; I'm easy to please. -SC

Please review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N:** Hi, I know, it's been a bit, but real life has gotten in the way. And before SC starts saying it's her fault, it's just as much my fault. It's one thing to write when it's just you, it's another to collaborate, but when you see where WE currently are and what we've done, we really think you'll understand why we have been as slow and precise as we have been with certain things. Remember how I yell ish a lot….there's some serious ish in here, you just have to pay attention to it. And it's leading to the biggest ISH ever. We're ramping up for something big. In fact, ch 50, we turn this fic on it's head. And you might feel the need to yell, but I PROMISE you, what's coming, it's goooooooooood. I'll shut up now, SC, you got anything?

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we aren't making any money from writing this fic.

* * *

Chuck checked his watch. He had ten minutes until it was time for him to leave the Buy More and spend the evening with the delightful Sarah Walker. Since the Casey named "Skate Date", things had seemed to be back to normal. Not that they hadn't been since the not-bomb, but there had been something extra in the air, and it had made things...tense. Now it wasn't tense, even though there still might be something extra in the air.

Chuck shook his head. He was getting lost and tonight wasn't the night to get lost. It was game night at her apartment which meant she was going to do all she could to beat him at Mario Kart. She had become quite the trash talker and he had to bring his A-game or he was going to be in big trouble.

He had defused Casey killing a customer earlier over a camera not auto-focusing correctly. That wasn't hyperbole. Casey was ready to murder. As the customer had walked away there were several growls and grunts out of the NSA agent. Chuck looked around the Buy More, looking for any possible points of combustion, but saw none…except for the Shawarma Girl.

He looked over at Lester and Jeff and saw no signs of a camera or any kind of recording device. Lester saw Chuck, threw his hands into the air, as if to say, "We're being cool," and the two walked away. Chuck grinned and nodded his head. He and Sarah were going to spend the evening together. No mission, just fun, just the two of them...as friends. And really, that was fine.

"There you are," he heard behind him in a voice that definitely was not Sarah's. He turned and his heart sank. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening. "Don't pretend you don't know who I am."

"Hey, Chuck," Sarah said walking up beside him. Where the hell had she been? She was a spy. She was supposed to have better timing than this. She was supposed to protect him, and now she was too late. It wasn't her fault, but this was not going to be good. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm the guy that sold him four hundred dollars worth of fireworks, and it's time for him to pay up," the firework dealer replied.

"Really?" Sarah asked, perking up and looking at Chuck with amusement covering her face. "Well, does Morgan know about your change of heart?" The amusement on her face made Chuck quite warm for the usual reasons, and he realized he never had really told her the whole story about the Bamboo Dragon.

Chuck turned to her, his lips pressed together. "No, Sarah, he doesn't," Chuck stressed, and she raised an eyebrow, catching on. God, she was so good. "And, he probably shouldn't since it was the special time you and I were getting Sizzling Shrimp." She gave him a curious look, his generality being too...well...general. "You know when we took ol' IRONSIDES down to the Bamboo Dragon?"

She got wide eyed and nodded, realization hitting her. "Then you should pay off your debts. How much do you owe?"

"Well, you see, Sarah—" Chuck began.

"Are you short, because I can cover it," Sarah offered. Chuck gave her a thankful look. She was trying to play the helpful girlfriend, but she was also playing the friend with the CIA expense account, knowing he was broke. Not just broke, but BA ROKE.

"Oh, he doesn't owe me anything money wise," firework guy explained. "We bartered." Sarah turned to Chuck, amusement returning to her features. That feeling was back in him again. "He has to fix my computer." Sarah twisted her lips. Chuck knew she was trying not to laugh, which made it worse.

"He's right," Chuck admitted. "Let me have the computer, and I'll get to work on it." Firework guy looked around, and Chuck had a sinking feeling. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"See, I need you to come to the computer, it's in a hotel." Chuck gave him a look. "It's the hotel's computer." Chuck just continued to stare at him, knowing what was coming next. "It's kinda affecting the whole system."

"You got porn on the work computer and it's affecting the system and you don't want to call IT," Chuck translated.

"I am IT," firework guy admitted. Sarah turned her head away, laughing.

"Dude, this was not part of the deal," Chuck began.

"Do this, and we're covered. We're even, but you got to get rid of everything." He glanced at Sarah. "I never said _I_ got porn on the computers."

"Where's the porn at?" Chuck asked.

"It's…." he trailed off, grinned, and shook a finger at him. "I see what you tried to do there, but again, I never said porn."

Chuck and Sarah shared a look. "It's porn," Chuck said to her.

"It is so porn," she agreed.

}o{

"GOOD GOD! HOW MUCH PORN DOES SOMEONE NEED?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide. They both slowly bent their necks sideways until their heads were nearly at a 90% angle. "That is some impressive flexibility."

"It won't stop playing," firework guy explained. Sarah had insisted on coming with Chuck for support, but really she just wanted to see him in action. She enjoyed watching him do things in which he was confident in himself.

She said they could just "hang out and talk" if it didn't interfere with him working. Chuck had given her a smile and then it fell. Before she could ask why, he blurted out, "Talk?"

They got to the Grand Saville and didn't have the chance to really explain what she meant. They were herded inside by Jeremy, who Sarah had finally gotten a name from since calling him firework guy was a little insulting. Chuck had logged on and they were now seeing the...issue.

"This is gonna take a bit," Chuck said to Jeremy.

"Cool," Jeremy replied, walked over to another part of the room, slapped on a pair of earphones, laid on the couch, and promptly began to snore.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone fall asleep that fast." Sarah shrugged. "Really? You can do that?"

"When I'm in the field and I've been up for a long time, and know I can only get a couple of hours, yeah, but doing it with people I don't know in the room? Hell no." Sarah stared at Jeremy in wonder. Either he was stoned out of his mind, which was possible, or he saw them as no threat.

Chuck was working, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts. She finally spoke up. "About earlier, and talking," she began. "Things have been…" She searched for the right words. "I don't want to say strained…"

"Different since Bryce showed up," Chuck offered, glancing over, but basically keeping his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. She didn't think it was because he needed to, it was more because he was trying to make things easier on her.

"Sure, let's say it's since Bryce showed up." She couldn't believe she said it, but damn it, they weren't middle schoolers. They were grown-ass adults who could act like grown-ass adults. She realized at that moment, he was giving the screen a weird look. He looked up over at Jeremy.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I got it. It's a really old virus, and it's gone. This guy...how the hell does he have a job?"

"You're kidding… It's really fixed?" Sarah asked.

"Here," Chuck replied. He pulled up a list of everyone staying at the hotel. "See, I'm into the registr—" He stopped talking and Sarah looked at him as he began to blink rapidly. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._ "Might wanna grab a pen and paper." Her eyes widened. He took another look, and it started again. _What the HELL!?_ "Okay, we've got Russians under fake passports, aliases, and they're all here for something."

"What kind of something?" Sarah asked. Chuck turned to her, a flat look on his face. She winced. "Sorry, I don't know what you see or don't see, or what you're figuring out." Chuck was staring at the computer, a strange look on his face from the last flash. "You okay?"

He turned to her. "Yeah, fine… It's a lot, so get ready to write, okay?" He turned back and began to give her names, but the look remained on his face. Something wasn't right and he wasn't telling her, but it was Chuck. If he wasn't telling her something there was a reason, and at that moment she realized something…

She trusted him. The nights he had stayed over and slept on the couch, she realized more and more she was sleeping straight through the night. In the Porsche on the way back from Stanford, she slept. She trusted Chuck Bartowski. She felt a warmth come over her. There was someone she trusted...truly trusted. He slowly turned toward her and she realized she had been staring. "Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, Chuck," she assured him laying her hand on his arm. "Do we need to stop?"

He shook his head. "No, this may be our only chance." Sarah nodded and he went back to it, and she continued to write down what he told her. Chuck was right, they were here for something. What, she didn't know.

}o{

Sarah dropped Chuck off at his apartment. She offered to come in with him, but he told her he had a massive headache from the flash. That wasn't a lie, and when she gave him that sad, soft smile, a part of him wanted to invite her in. Part of him said do it, and screw Casey for what he had done to them, but another part of him...that part said it wasn't right. It told him he had to tell Casey what he learned. He was really looking forward to seeing the look on Casey's face when he told him about Sugar Bear.

Chuck waved as she pulled away and turned toward the apartments. He walked over to Casey's door and knocked. Casey opened the door, holding his Bonsai.

"Bad night?" he asked, with a grin.

"Actually I came over here because you got mad last time we found out info and you didn't." Casey grunted. "I just had the mother lode of all bad guy flashes." Casey's eyebrow lifted, intrigued. "Mostly Russian, all traveling under aliases, fake passports."

Casey put down the Bonsai tree fully engaged. "That means they're arms dealers, money launderers, black market smugglers…"

Chuck crossed his arms, proud of himself. "Yeah. Apparently, they're all having a douche bag convention down at the Grand Saville."

"Sarah running it up the flagpole?" Casey asked. Chuck nodded. "Good, we'll wait and see what command wants us to do. Good work, Bartowski."

"Uh... one more thing," Chuck added, grinning. "There was another name, one name that I flashed on actually, but I left it—her—off of the list."

Casey had a frown on his face. "What the hell are you talking about, Bartowski?"

"Does the name Ilsa Trinchina mean anything to you... Sugar Bear?" Chuck had a knowing grin on his face.

Casey stepped out of the way and set the Bonsai on a table. "Come in." Chuck came in and the door slammed. Chuck's eyes grew wide. "I know you think this is the perfect time to get even with me for what happened." Casey was talking in a low voice and Chuck found his bladder on the verge of releasing itself. There was anger there, a threat, and Casey's hands were suddenly around Chuck's throat, but not touching it. "All I'd have to do is jerk and," he made a cracking sound. "You say that name ever again and I will end you," he said just above a whisper. "Nod if you understand." Chuck banged his head against the door a few times. Casey straightened and removed his hands. He stared at Chuck.

"Casey... you're scaring the Intersect," Chuck nearly whimpered.

Casey took his Bonsai tree, turned, and headed toward the kitchen. Chuck wheeled, grabbed the door handle, nearly ripped the door open and fled to his apartment.

He sat in his room, fuming. He knew he probably shouldn't have teased Casey, but there was something weird in her file. Something was bothering him, and it was like he was on the verge of a flash, but nothing came. Something really bothered him about Ilsa. He walked over to his computer, turned it on, and let his fingers do some digging.

What he found out changed everything.

}o{

Chuck entered the Wienerlicious the first chance he got the next morning. He walked in as a group of what he assumed were most likely hormonal teenaged boys left the Wienerlicious. Sarah spun when she saw it was him.

"Hey. Try this," she said with a grin. "It's the new breakfast corndog with country sausage and syrup wrapped in pancake. I'm sure it's better than the eggnog one." Chuck took the corndog, thought about throwing it away, but there was a look on her face that made him think maybe she had made it for him and was bringing it to him later. He took a bite.

"Thank you," he choked. Sarah began to laugh. "Wow, there's a lot going on in there." He looked at it and then back to her, trying to smile. She plucked it out of his fingers and tossed it in the trash.

"I have some serious business to discuss. It's a matter of national security."

"What is it, Chuck?" Sarah looked a little concerned.

"It's the Intersect," he began. "Well, it may be my life, but I'm not sure which handler is going to kill me." Sarah stared at him. Tough room. "Oookay. So, remember last night during the flashing you asked me if something was wrong?" Sarah nodded. Chuck gulped. "Casey's ex-girlfriend is in town," he blurted out.

"What?" Sarah was shocked.

"I flashed on her. Ilsa Trinchina. Super-hot, super-sexy, and staying at the Grand Saville as we speak," Chuck said, hoping she didn't kill him. "Listen, it was Casey's secret, and I felt he ought to know first."

"I get it," Sarah said. "I'm not crazy about it, but I get it, and you did the right thing." She paused. "Did you say super-hot?" Chuck nodded. "Now do you mean super-hot like for dating Casey?"

"I mean she is super-hot and there were some letters she wrote…detailed letters…very detailed...she had the right prescription glasses on if you know what I mean."

Sarah snorted. "He does know, right?"

"That she's super hot or that she's into him?" Chuck asked, now confused.

Sarah rolled her eyes and huffed. "That she's in town."

"Oh, yeah. Almost ripped my head off; it must've been a pretty bad break-up." He was silent like he wanted to say more. "You know for the longest time, I always imagined Casey was built like a Ken doll, you know, downstairs."

Sarah snorted. "I don't know what kind of woman would go for a guy like Casey. I mean, I guess there's always someone for somebody."

Chuck looked her in the eye. "I think there's more to Casey than he likes to show. He can be extremely sensitive when he knows someone needs….more than he usually offers. He can be a rock at certain times. And, when he thinks things are okay, and it amuses him, he's a dick." She snorted again. Chuck was quiet again.

"Okay, Chuck, tell me."

"Sarah...Ilsa's dead." Sarah's eyes widened. "At least, she's supposed to be. Died in a bombing. She's supposedly a civilian, a foreign national, and all the Intersect has besides what I told you are some love letters that now I'll never be able to scrub out of my brain."

"You want me to go behind Casey's back, reallocate CIA resources, and violate this woman's privacy so you can find out what their story is?"

Chuck shook his head. "She's supposed to be dead, Sarah," Chuck began. "There are the baddest of the bad staying at this hotel. There is something going on that Casey's hiding, and maybe it's simply a bad break-up or the fact he thinks she's dead. Someone with her name is in that hotel. Why?" Sarah sighed, he knew he was winning her over. "Tell me you're not curious, about all of it. If I'm right, you know there's a good chance she's either up to no good, or she's doing something that she'll need our help with."

"You're just tired of Casey messing with you," Sarah retorted. "And you think this is a way out of it." Chuck shrugged, but he didn't deny it. "Why do you think she's 'up to no good'?"

"If she is alive, and faked her death, there are very few good reasons to do that." Sarah shook her head, looking away. "You know that I know that's you're 'this is a bad idea but I'm going to do it and I'm going to regret it,' face." She turned toward him, her lips twisting. "If anyone asks, I wore you down with many hours of pleading." She stared at him. "I'll even grant you a rematch in Mario Kart."

She shook her head.

"You are going to be the death of me, Chuck Bartowski," she replied, but the smile on her face said otherwise.

}o{

Later on that afternoon, Chuck was in the kitchen going through the refrigerator when there was a knock on the door. "It's open!" he yelled.

The door opened and Sarah stood there, an urgent look on her face. "Ellie and Awesome here?"

"No, and I'm glad you're here early, because there is something going on with them and Morgan and frankly I didn't ask too many questions, but don't be shocked if Ellie texts you. It sounds like there's a relationship issue about to show its head."

"Oh, God," Sarah said, truthful shock on her face. "Are they okay?"

Chuck made a face and waved his hand. "They're fine. They have one of these every so often and Morgan has gotten in the middle. That's guaranteed to screw something up."

Sarah snorted and then she gave him a serious look. "Why was the door unlocked?"

"Because I have Casey the friendly watcher watching and my amazing fake girlfriend was on her way," Chuck replied.

"What if I had been a bad guy?" She was giving him the look that if he didn't answer right he was in trouble. She even crossed her arms. He knew he should take this absolutely serious, but he couldn't help himself.

"They tend not to knock," he replied flippantly with a shrug. "They tend to blow the door off the hinges and just barge in." She stared at him for a long second. "You know I'm right," he added. She huffed and looked away, and he pretended he didn't see her fighting laughter. "Soooo, I'm glad you're here because we now have three options for tonight since the double date is off." She turned back to him. "You're losing that grin battle." She pressed her lips together and his eyes widened. He hurried on, realizing he may have pushed it too far. "So the first option is to not do anything and we just see each other in the morning and originally I wasn't for that because Ellie told me I had to do something with you, but by the look on your face…" The look didn't change and he hurried on. "Secondly, we could go to your place and I could beat you soundly at Mario Kart AGAIN, but that is boring." A grin was fighting it's way through on her face. "Or, there's the third option."

"Where I kick your ass all over this apartment because I've been forced to listen to all of this?"

"Wow, you are grumpy today. Scooter must have been a special kinda jerk," Chuck replied, knowing he was playing with fire. "Wouldn't let you listen to Michael Bolton?"

"You do know I know numerous ways to kill you, right?"

"I thought that was too much paperwork," Chuck fired back.

"I'm sure Casey would help," she replied.

Chuck pressed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah, he might do it all for you, right now." Sarah looked away, chuckling. "The third option is dangerous." Sarah turned back, intrigued. "Ah ha! I knew that'd get ya. I was thinking I, your fake boyfriend, could make you a real meal. It'd really help solidify that cover."

"So you want me to spend the night in the hospital with food poisoning?" Sarah asked.

Chuck's mouth dropped and he tried to look hurt. "Sarah." She just smirked. "Two nights, minimum." She began to laugh and he joined in.

"While three sounds the best, there is a fourth option," Sarah replied. Chuck brightened. "We have a briefing."

"Fake date canceled?"

"Fake date canceled, but real mission with your favorite spy," Sarah replied.

"With Casey?" Chuck asked. Sarah mock glared at him as he grabbed his stuff and headed to Casey's. Casey let them in, only slightly glaring at Chuck. Chuck wasn't sure if that was more than the normal glare or not. Beckman was on the screen.

"We received your report, Agent Walker," Beckman began. "Ex-KGB, Eastern Bloc thugs, Russian arms dealers... Frankly, we're not used to seeing this particular crowd stateside these days."

"'Least not since President Reagan won The Cold War, huh, General?" Chuck swore there was more glee in his voice than he had heard in the entire time Casey had been in Burbank.

"So you want us to infiltrate the Grand Saville?" Sarah asked. Chuck loved how she always pulled them back in. He should probably be more professional during these briefings.

"The hotel's bar has been booked for a private party early this evening," Beckman replied.

"Fine, I'll clear my schedule, but just 'cause it's you, General," Chuck said pointing at her. That. That was where he should have been more professional.

"Mr. Bartowski, it's up to you to tell us what these criminal agents are all doing in Los Angeles. You and Agent Walker are going undercover. We need you to press some Russian flesh, see what you can flash on. And, uh... good luck." Beckman clicked off.

Chuck turned to Casey. "So, what about you, Casey?"

"What about me?" he snarled.

"I don't know. I just thought if Sarah and I have to go to the hotel to press some Russian flesh, that you might get mad at us being there with them," Chuck explained. "I mean I know communism isn't contagious, but I just want to make sure you didn't think that. I don't need you pissed off because I have to press flesh. How much pressing? Because I'm not really good at getting close to someone I don't know."

Sarah and Casey were staring at him. "You do know the phrase 'press some flesh' means to work the room?" Sarah asked. "In your case, you're to walk around the room and see who you flash on."

"I knew that," Chuck replied.

"You had no clue," Casey replied and walked away.

Chuck turned to Sarah and she was shaking his head. "You don't believe me either." Sarah continued to shake her head. "Well, I gotta tell you, I'm really glad that's what it means because I didn't want anyone pressing me, or you. Not that I get to tell you when or who you can press, I just didn't want to see you in one of those…" he trailed off, her eyes wide. He knew she was just enjoying this spiral. He threw a thumb up, pointing over his shoulder towards the door. "I'm just gonna go." When the door shut, he heard her laughter. "That could have gone better," he muttered.

}o{

I don't get it," Chuck said, to Sarah, walking into the room. "Why does this jacket fits my shoulders so much better?"

"I may have said something," Sarah replied. She had checked the measurements on file after the Lon Kirk mission and sure enough Chuck's jacket was a size too small, just enough to make him uncomfortable. Chuck looked over at her and she shrugged. "I'm not convinced Casey didn't screw with your measurements."

Chuck gave her a grateful smile.

"We need to be careful," she continued. "If Ilsa Trinchina is staying in this hotel it's probably someone traveling on a fake passport. It happens all the time in Russia. People die and their personal info gets recycled."

"My God, that's so horrible," Chuck said, seeing Casey. Chuck gave a slight head nod to him, and Casey replied, a little bit of pride on his face. Casey walked over to them.

"We've got work to do," Casey said, walking up. He tilted his head to the side toward a group of people. "Those are our Russians, and before you begin Bartowski, yes, this isn't a black tie thing, and you're way overdressed. Lose the jacket."

Sarah handed Chuck a serving tray. Chuck looked at it and then back to her. "Are we sure this is the best idea?" he asked. "I didn't do so well the last time I was supposed to be serving."

She started to respond but Casey beat her to it. "Hennessy's not around for you to moon over," Casey growled and walked away.

Chuck looked at Sarah. "He's still mad at me."

"Do I want to know what happened?"

"He told me never to talk about it and if I did he would kill me." Chuck felt himself turning pale. "I'm sure he's serious."

Sarah nodded and they got started. She really wanted to know...and she didn't. It was probably best she didn't. "Recognize anyone, Chuck?"

She watched his face, and saw that the flashes began. They were coming in one right after another. He was going to have a hell of a headache tomorrow. "That's, uh, Dmitry Siljak. Black market arms dealer," he said, nodding toward him. "Sergey 'Noodles' Romanov. Freelance hit man," Chuck said gesturing slightly with the tray.

Suddenly a small man in the middle of the group of people dancing yelled.

"Sacha! Is that you, my sweet Sacha?" Sarah saw Chuck had been picked out. She quickly took the drinks out of his hands. She was pretty sure of what was about to happen. "Everybody, meet fourth cousin on my mother's side. Sacha, come and give your cousin great big hug!"

Sarah got away, chuckling to herself. Chuck had a doppelgänger somewhere in Russia. Casey was gonna love that.

Sarah got away, watching the exchange. The little man kept insisting Chuck dance, and Chuck kept trying to get out of it. She was enjoying watching him, when she felt the squeeze on her backside. "How much for the whole night?" His hot breath on her shoulder made her want to scrub her skin. Sarah spun, holding his thumb, and spoke to him in Russian. "Don't touch me again, pig." She twisted his thumb and it made a popping sound. "Never again, mother fucker."

She turned around as the man slinked off, rage coursing through her, but it melted hearing Chuck attempt to continue his cover with talk of Baryshnikov and _White Nights_. She had to find him another movie about Russia. At least he hadn't pulled out _Rocky IV_. He kept making eye contact with her, and he began to point. She looked over and couldn't see anything. He pointed one more time, and the little man saw it this time.

"Sacha, you like blonde?" the little man yelled. Another little man took the drinks from her and escorted her to Chuck. Only Chuck could get them in the middle of a dance when they were supposed to be inconspicuous. "She is all yours, Sacha!" Sarah joined the dance, hopping in place with Chuck.

"She's here. Ilsa is here," Chuck said during the hopping, under his breath so only she could hear..

"What? Are you sure?" Sarah asked.

"Look over there," Chuck said.

Sarah looked over and saw her. She hit her mike in her watch. "Our cover has been compromised. Request team extraction." Casey responded and they kept dancing, waiting for the extraction. Chuck kept yelling nonsense and no one seemed to notice. Sarah knew they were in danger, and too much time had passed. Where was Casey?

She was pushing Chuck gently, leading him out of the circle of dancers when they saw Casey and Ilsa. This was bad. "We've got to get him out of here."

"Oh, come on. The guy spent four years of his life thinking he'd never see her again."

Damn it, there he went. She knew this was coming. Chuck was thinking with his heart, and not his brain. "His cover has been compromised," she stressed, but part of her wondered, was it okay to think with your heart?

"Can't the man live without a cover for just a couple of minutes?" Chuck asked.

A microphone flared to life and they turned towards the stage.

"Hello, everybody. How are we doing tonight, huh?" A man held the mic onstage, one hand up to get everyone's attention.

"Sarah?" Chuck said, getting her attention. She recognized that look as his post-flash look. "Sarah, I think I know what brought all the baddies together. Him. Victor Federov. A Russian oligarch with ties to everything from the mob to a plot to overthrow Parliament." This was bad. This was really bad.

The man continued. "We are so glad the daughter of our very smart friend was found, and has agreed to marry me. Please, I'd like to introduce you to a woman who will make me the happiest man on Earth by becoming my wife. Ilsa Trinchina!" Sarah looked at Chuck and they both turned to look at Casey. The scowl on his face told them all they needed to know. Fuck.

"Let's get out of here," he growled, and led them outside. "I'll inform the bosses," he said, climbing into his Crown Vic and taking off. Sarah watched him go, knowing that look. That look was someone who wasn't supposed to have feelings but did. Casey should probably talk to someone but there was no way in hell Sarah was having that conversation with him, not on purpose.

"I'm really sorry about that back there," Chuck said, pulling Sarah out of her thoughts. "My Russian dancing skills are a little limited." Sarah turned to him slowly. "Now voguing," he said, as they got into her Porsche. "That I'm so much better at."

"It's fine, Chuck, they were all drunk and had no idea what was going on," Sarah replied trying to reassure him. She glanced at him out of the side of her vision, Chuck was staring straight forward. She grinned and then slipped the spy mask into place. "That's gotta be rough seeing an old romantic flame like that."

"You should talk to him," Chuck said softly. "You would understand that life better than I."

"What? Me talk about an ex with Casey? You realize I'm only a few grunts away from speaking the same language as him, right." She paused. "No, Chuck. It's best we let him deal with it on his own. He'll get through it."

"Sarah, he needs someone to talk to," Chuck insisted.

Careful, Sarah. Careful. "Chuck, seriously, of the two of us, you're much better at this than I am, but we need to leave him alone. He'll get his Johnny Walker out and work his way through it."

"Sarah, he's our teammate." He paused. She held her breath waiting for him to say it. He was on the edge and she knew it. "I'll do it," he said softly. "I'll talk to Casey."

"If you're sure," she replied. _Teach you to fuck with Chuck, Casey_ , she thought to herself, keeping the grin off of her face.

}o{

He had to talk to Casey, but how?

He was pacing his room the next day, fretting.

Casey'd slam the door in Chuck's face but he still needed info. He looked at his computer for a moment and decided he had nothing to lose.

He sat down and began. As he did a deep search, something that was said the other night kept resurfacing. "The daughter of our smart friend."

He knew what "our friend" meant because he'd watched _The Sopranos_. That was mob speak.

He started searching by key words—smart don, brilliant don, and he found what he was looking for under brainy don.

The flash began, Simon Mudkovich Yogilevich, the "boss of bosses". AKA the brainy don. Chuck shook his head. That couldn't be right, but now a secondary flash began and he discovered that Yogilevich had an illegitimate daughter, Ilsa. Chuck's eyes grew wide.

This wasn't a wedding for Federov. This was a wedding for Ilsa.

She was consolidating her power. This was her move! She was going to use him to further strengthen her position of power.

"First female mob boss in Russia," Chuck muttered. "I mean, good for her, but is that where you want to break the glass ceiling?" He thought for a second. "Sarah!" He jumped up, ran to Casey's door, and knocked. Casey opened the door, saw it was Chuck, turned, and walked away. Chuck walked in, closing the door behind him. Casey was sitting on the couch, a bottle in front of him, the glass dry. That meant either Casey hadn't started drinking yet, or he was drinking straight from the bottle.

Chuck needed info, quick. He sat down. "Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

Casey gave him a look. "How am I feeling?"

Crap this wasn't going well. "Yeah, uh, you know, about last night?"

Casey shrugged. "Our mission was a success. You I.D.'d Victor Federov. Agent Walker's been assigned to set up a surveillance on the target. In short, I feel fan-eff'in-tastic."

Okay, try this another way, Chuck thought. "Well... okay. I-I mean, I guess, uh, you know, I was referring more to the you and Ilsa situation. Thought maybe you'd want to talk about the fact that the girl you thought was dead isn't actually dead." Casey stared at him the entire time he spoke. He was going to kill him. He was going to do worse than kill him.

"No," he said in a clipped voice, pouring himself two fingers of Johnny Walker. Chuck starred at the glass.

He had to move quick. "Great. Good, good." Casey stood up, and headed for the kitchen. "Really good session here, Casey. Really feel like you're making a breakthrough." Casey rummaged around and found what he was looking for, apparently duct tape. "Look, I just... I just want you to know that I'm a good listener, okay? So, if you ever want to talk about anything. If you want to use me as a sounding board for your emotions, or…" Casey had come back over while he was talking, ripped off a piece of tape, and put it over Chuck's mouth. Casey chuckled, went back to the kitchen, and brought his sandwich out to the table. Chuck pulled the tape off his face, shouting as Casey chuckled.

"Come on, buddy. Just give me something, anything." Screw it, he had to throw his cards on the table. "...Where is she from? Or, where did you two meet?"

Casey stared at him. "Why is this so important to you, Chuck? Why the hell do you care so much about me and Ilsa?"

Chuck sat there conflicted. "There are two reasons," Chuck said softly. "I just... I-I think it would be nice to know that you had a life before... this. I just figured, if a guy like you can find love—no offense, Casey—then maybe there's hope for me, too. Maybe this whole spy business isn't as screwed up as I think it is."

"Hmm," Casey grunted. "And why do I think that has something to do with the second reason?"

Chuck looked frustrated. "I think Sarah's in danger, Casey, and I thought if I knew...more, maybe I could flash. Maybe I could understand this better, for you, for her, for my team, but how am I supposed to use the Intersect if you don't tell me everything I need to be able to flash?"

Casey studied him a minute. "You never cease to amaze me," he said softly. "I met her in a flower market. In Rome. Ilsa was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

Chuck smiled at him. "I knew it," Chuck said softly. "You do have a feeling, and it's alive."

"I hate you," Casey muttered. He looked away. "Sure, it was great. You know, we had what we had, but it's over." Chuck was silent. "I'm kinda surprised at you." Chuck looked at him. "I figured you'd be all, 'So, that's it? You're just going to let her walk back out of your life?'"

"Casey, why didn't she see you all these years?" Chuck asked.

"She fed me some bull about being unconscious after the explosion and losing her memory," Casey explained.

"Some bull?"

"That sounds very...spyish, so I let her say whatever she wanted to trip her up later. Something's off with her. Nice girls don't marry corrupt Russian oligarchs."

Chuck grinned at Casey. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but nice girls don't go around marrying guys like you, either. G-man assassin? International spy? I mean, pardon me for saying it, Casey, but at least on paper, you're kind of an unsavory dude."

Casey nodded. "Granted. But Ilsa never knew what I do for a living."

Chuck took a deep breath. "That's exactly my point. What if Ilsa did know, and now she knows what her fiancé is? ... Does the term the Brainy Don mean anything to you?"

}o{

Casey pulled him out of the car at the hotel, Chuck still protesting. "Wait!" Chuck said. "Listen, I _know_ we've had our issues and you like to mess with me, but I need to tell you something, in secret, and not even Sarah knows this." Casey straightened. "Does the name Piranha mean anything to you?" Casey's eyes widened. "Yeah, I take it it does."

'You're Piranha?" Casey asked. Chuck nodded. "We need to have a serious talk about that numbnuts, but right now I need to know what you did."

"I did some digging and between that and the flashes….I think Ilsa is the illegitimate daughter of the Brainy Don."

"Son of a bitch," Casey muttered. "She's pulling a power play uniting families under her wing." He had a slightly proud look on his face.

"Not to make too fine a point but you realize you're projecting pride in your ex-girlfriend for being a great mobster, right?" Casey glared at him. "I mean, uh, good for her, shattering that glass ceiling. That is HUGE!" Casey shook his head. "What are you thinking?"

"I need answers. Did she know who I was? Was she using me?"

Chuck grinned and couldn't help himself. "Casey, did she pump you for information?" Casey growled at him and began to pull him toward the hotel. "For the record, that was the line. That was too far, and I now understand that."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N:** So listen.. SC here, and I am using this momentary moment to talk to you about reviews and how appreciated they are. We appreciate ya! That's really it. That's all I've got for you on this fine afternoon. I've cut David completely out of the editing process (MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA) so he can't say anything. It's just me MUAHAHAHAHAAAAAnyway hope you enjoy this chapter.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we aren't making any money from writing this fic.

* * *

She knew why she'd been tagged to plant the bug. Chuck was...well, Chuck. And Casey was so obviously compromised by this situation—even if their superiors didn't know that. This was also her bread and butter, something she'd done countless times before.

It didn't change the fact that this whole situation felt...off. Ilsa felt off.

Once they had the bug planted, maybe they could figure out just how deep Casey's ex-lover was in this, whether she was really bad or some kind of foreign agent. Sarah knew from her own career as a secret agent that either was possible. Maybe—for Casey—they could get to the bottom of it.

And arrest a piece of shit criminal on U.S. soil at the same time. Maybe more than one.

They knew Victor Federov was one of the most powerful Russian oligarchs around, and that he was here for some reason. How much of that reason had to do with Ilsa Trinchina? Or was Ilsa using his high position in Russia's affairs to amass power for herself?

She hoped Casey was prepared for it to be the latter. Because that was how it was starting to look.

As she pushed her cart down the hallway, she had to stop short as she turned the corner. Chuck and Casey were standing there, gaping at her.

"Uh...hey," Casey muttered, affecting an innocent look that was almost worse than one of Chuck's.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked, standing up straight and putting a hand on her hip.

Casey looked contrite suddenly, almost embarrassed, and then he straightened his spine, lifting his chin. "I need to apologize, Agent Walker. Chuck here convinced me to—"

"To-to bring me. B-Because maybe I could flash—I could flash on some cool stuff and things or whatever," Chuck interrupted, turning to face her and putting his hand on his own hip. She wasn't falling for it for a second. She knew why they were here and she was annoyed he was trying to play this game with her.

She really didn't have the patience. "You volunteered to go on an all-night stake-out?" she asked in a droll voice.

"Yeah. Yeah. It really—It's not like me, is it? Not at all. But you guys get to—I mean _have to_ do all this surveillance stuff and the stake-outs and lucky me, just..in my bed asleep. Seems kinda unfair. And besides I couldn't sleep. I couldn't… So I thought, hey, why don't I look at some surveillance monitors for a bit, and maybe it'll just...conk me right out?" He tilted his head to the side, pretending to fall asleep and then he grinned.

She supposed with Casey here he'd be less likely to get into trouble. And if they were just sitting in the monitor room… God, she really just didn't want to deal with this right now. So she sighed and shook her head, grabbing the cart again and turning it to go down the hall to the room.

"All right. This way."

Something fishy was going on with her companions. She could feel them exchanging looks as she took them to the room, gesturing for them to open it and go in. She followed after them and pushed the cart in with her, shutting the door behind her. "I've already hacked into the hotel's security feed." Chuck raised his eyebrows at her and grinned. "You two get cozy, I'm going to deliver this to the bridal suite." She grabbed the cover off of the dinner plate and flashed the inside of the dome at the two men.

"A bug," Casey grunted, nodding once in approval.

"With any luck, we'll get enough dirt on Victor Federov to arrest him on U.S. soil," she said with a bit of a smirk. "And we can maybe see whose side Ilsa Trinchina's really on."

"That-That'd be good," Chuck said. "We want to know that for sure. And that bug...will...definitely be the _best_ way to do that."

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him as Casey gave him a flat look. "What are you two up to?" she asked, flicking her gaze between them.

"Up to? No, we—"

Casey interrupted Chuck this time. "We aren't up to anything, Walker. We're gonna sit right here and keep watch for ya. I want the truth about Ilsa more than anybody."

She had a job to do, so even though she wasn't convinced, she nodded once then backed out of the room with the cart again. "Have fun, boys…"

Chuck saluted her. "Don't wait up. We'll just be...looking at some monitors...talking about our favorite patriotic films…"

She shut the door behind her and shook her head, pushing the cart down the hallway towards the elevator. She was fifty-fifty on whether or not Chuck and Casey were actually going to stay in the room looking at the monitors. More like seventy-thirty, in favor of them having something up their sleeves. They had probably shown up to do some snooping of their own, and she thought Ilsa had a lot to do with it.

It smacked of Chuck's constant need to take care of other people's hearts. He was always watching, observing, and he always had to get involved when someone was hurting. He had to try to make things better. She wanted to be annoyed with him, but she just couldn't be. And she imagined Casey was moping about Ilsa after the other night, Chuck noticed, and he was convincing him to try to get to the bottom of it, to fix his heart or something. Casey was actually listening to him, which meant Chuck hadn't just gotten under her skin.

The thought made her smile a little.

But she hardened the look on her face as she stepped off of the elevator on the floor of the bridal suite and began pushing the cart into the correct hallway.

As she turned the corner towards the bridal suite, she heard a voice behind her and turned to look. A man was pacing, talking into a walkie-talkie, and she recognized him from the party. He was the piece of shit who'd touched her ass. She knew it was him for sure when she cast her gaze down and spotted the bandaged thumb she'd broken in at least two places.

Shit, he'd absolutely recognize her after what she'd done to him. She turned back to the cart and started pushing it fast. "Hey!" Oh, God damn it… "This is a private floor."

Well, this was annoying. She had no choice but to just do this the messy way, then. She turned and gave him a fed up look.

"Oy…" He brought the walkie-talkie up to call for back-up and she sprang at him, ripping it away from him and breaking his other thumb. When he cried out in pain, she slammed her fist into his face and sent him to the floor. Then she spun, grabbed the metal cover with the bug and swung it around to knock him out cold. Easy.

Except now she had extra work to do. At least Casey was in the building now. That was one good thing about those two idiots invading her op. She brought her watch up to her mouth. "Casey, you're gonna have to deliver the package. I've got a body to take care of," she groused, looking down at the asshole sprawled on the gauche carpet. "Key's in the sugar," she said, slipping the key card between the sugar packets.

She grabbed the Russian goon's arm and turned his body around, starting to drag him down the hallway. Casey had yet to respond to her, though, and she let out a curse, pulling her watch back up. "Casey! Do you read me?"

There was a bit of a crackle, but then she heard, "Yeah, uhhhh...copy that, I'm...on my way…"

That was definitely Chuck pretending to be Casey. She couldn't just leave the guy here for someone to stumble onto him, but Chuck was potentially gonna do something rash. Stupid. Risky. Again. She needed to take care of this quick.

Damn it, Chuck.

}o{

Chuck stared at the screens, the room silent for a few minutes as they finally sat down and did exactly what they told Sarah they would do. He was tired...but this was important. Casey's happiness was on the line, here.

But also, it was kind of fun. He already saw a guy pick his nose and wipe the booger on the underside of the chair.

Only two or three minutes passed though before he actually saw what he'd been more or less looking for. He pointed to the monitor as he saw the head of brown hair and pretty face move into view on one of the feeds that overlooked the bar. "Um, Casey?"

"M'what? Did ya flash?" the NSA agent asked, turning to look at him.

"Look who's sitting at the bar on the night before her own wedding." Casey followed his gaze and looked at the screen. "Now, does that look like the face of a woman who's happy about getting married?" Chuck asked.

"She doesn't have to be happy about it if she's doing it to get in solid with a Russian oligarch, Chuck," he grumbled, staring at the video screen, his lips set in a grim line. "I'm not so sure this is a love match."

"That's what I'm sayin'! You don't know until you've hashed it out! I mean, she could easily be a double agent, right? Maybe she's playin' 'em! At the very least, you could get more than some flimsy excuse about her losing her memory or whatever." He put his hand on Casey's shoulder. "C'mon, buddy…" He watched then as Ilsa moved away from the bar and went to a settee by the fireplace, slowly taking a seat and sipping her drink. "She's alone. Nobody's with her. It's like she's waitin' for ya. Go now. It's your time, Casey."

But the NSA agent didn't budge. Chuck slowly turned to look at him, and with the unsure look on the older man's face, he was able to put the pieces together. "Waaait a second. You don't want to talk to her, do you? You're scared."

"Don't be an idiot," Casey growled, climbing to his feet and going to the door. But he stopped, his back to Chuck, just standing there.

"Caseyyyy…" He stood up and waited for Casey to turn to look at him again. "Look, man, say you don't go down there to talk to her. We sit here all night staring at these screens… Do you wanna spend the rest of your life wondering?"

"She's more than likely a criminal."

"Maybe. And I get that you're afraid of what you might find if you go and talk to her, Casey. I totally get that. You cared a lot about her, you thought she was dead, and then she shows up like _this_? It's fucked up. But you _have_ to know. Because there's a chance she is really on the good side here. And wouldn't you wanna know that if she is? Either way, buddy...you need to know, don't you? I can see it in you."

Casey gave him a grossed out look. "You can't see shit. Stop it. Sit down and watch the monitors." But then he made a thoughtful face and ducked out of the room.

He'd only been gone for about a minute and a half when he saw Sarah step into view on one of the feeds. She halted, but he couldn't see her face from the angle. Was she in trouble? Somebody else was there… When she spun and wrecked the guy, even slamming the bugged cover into his face to knock him out, Chuck settled back into his chair with a wince. Yeah, he should've known she'd handle that.

But then her voice came over the comms. "Casey, you're gonna have to deliver the package. I've got a body to take care of." Oh. Shit, shit shit. Shit. Casey went downstairs to talk to Ilsa. Oh God what did he do now? "Key's in the sugar," she said.

"Deliver the package," he muttered to himself. The bug. She was going to the bridal suite to plant the bug. Okay. Okay, okay. He could do this… Right? Sure. Of course.

"Casey! Do you read me?"

Oh. He should...answer. Crap. He cleared his throat and leaned in, affecting his best grumbly Casey voice. "Yeah. Uuhhh...copy that. On my way."

She didn't say anything else so he figured he'd done a pretty good John Casey impersonation, and he quickly spun to see if he could find a black vest somewhere in here.

He found enough to at least pass for a waiter, and he sprinted out of the surveillance room, dashing to the elevator and stepping inside, still buttoning the vest over his Nerd Herd shirt. This would have to do.

And anyway, chances were nobody would see him.

He hurried out of the elevator and slipped down the hallway, finding Sarah's cart and thumbing through the sugar packets. He found the key right where she'd said it would be and stood to his full height, making his way towards the bridal suite. But then he stopped. The bug. That was the whole point of this. Deliver the package…

He hastened back to the cart and pushed it to the bridal suite, taking a deep breath and gently knocking on the door. He muffled his voice and pulled an accent out of his ass. "Bonsoiiirrrr huuudehhhh hoousekeepiiiinggg…"

Nobody answered and as he unlocked the door and opened it, he made a face at himself. What in the ever-loving…?

He quickly pulled the cart in and shut the door behind him. He knew he had to make this quick. Think like Sarah, think like Sarah, think like Sarah. Sarah had, like, a good amount of years under her belt doing this sort of thing. Thinking like her was impossible. Think like James Bond? No. Just don't be a freaking jack-ass? That was a good one.

And then he pulled the cover off of the dish and accidentally made it clang loudly. He held onto it to make the loud _bonggggggg_ stop and winced. He'd failed already as far as not being a jack-ass was concerned.

He spun to face the rest of the room. Lamp? Too conspicuous. They always did lamps in movies. No. Other lamp? Nah. Same situation. But then he spotted a wall sconce nearby. That felt more inconspicuous and he needed to get this done quick. Chuck started working on attaching it on the metal part of the sconce under the light, but then pulled his hand back and made a face. "Putting it on the front? What am I, stupid?" he breathed. Reaching behind to stick it in a less visible spot on the back. He turned his face to make it easier to lean in and attach the bug, but that was when he spotted a very suspicious looking briefcase sitting on the desk across the room. "Well, hello…"

Chuck knew he had to get out of here but there could be something incredibly important he'd be missing if he didn't at least check it out. He raced over to the briefcase, setting the bug down on the desk and opening it.

There were papers inside, a computer disc… He thumbed through the papers and saw a picture of Ilsa on one of them.

The flash came upon him before he was ready for it.

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, he'd sent Casey downstairs to get some bad news. Very bad news. His ex-girlfriend was no photographic journalist. She had a history, a record. And none of it was government sanctioned. "Shit," he gasped out. "Casey, your girlfriend is a bad, bad lady. Oh, no…"

He heard a thump against the bridal suite's door then and heard what had to be Ilsa outside saying something about how the keys to hotel rooms never work. Chuck shut the briefcase and dove under the bed just as the door began to open, wincing, turning his face to watch as a pair of heels and shapely legs stepped inside.

"I'm so glad you let me explain things to you," she was saying. "It was so hard, not knowing where you went...and now, now that I'm close to getting everything I've ever dreamed of...to find you again…"

Chuck heard the unmistakable sounds of heavy making out as the pair of heels and the shined black shoes moved together. A jacket fell to the floor and he recognized it, as well as the next voice he heard, a deep, grumbling voice, uttering a particularly wanton, "Ilsa…"

God, he was growling as they fell onto the bed.

"I missed you," she whimpered, and the bed began to shift and bulge above him.

This was the worst possible thing he could ever imagine happening. He wanted to die. Could he slit his own throat with the room key in his pocket? Was that possible? Second base was happening on the bed above him by the sound of things and he never in his life could've imagined spying might be this horrific. What if he started vomiting? Would he make one of those bad reality TV shows like the "Worst Criminals Ever"? Except it'd be "Worst Spies Ever".

And when his cellphone started ringing in his pocket, he was sure he really was the worst. spy. ever.

He scrambled for his phone, seeing it was Sarah calling, and turned it off entirely. But the bed had stopped moving above him, the room went silent.

"Bartowski," Casey gasped out. And a hand swung down to land on the floor beside the bed, followed by an enraged, red Casey face. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Listen, I-I'm really sorry. I know this is very awkward. I'm on the verge of barfing, if I'm being fully honest with you. But Ilsa is exactly what we thought she is. She's a very, very bad girl." He tried whispering the last part.

Casey's face went blank. Chuck didn't see where he'd gotten the gun, but it was in his hand as he swung back up. There was a cocking sound then.

"Drop the gun, Sugar Bear," Chuck heard Ilsa say.

Shit.

"Mind tellin' me what a nice girl like you is doin' with a gun, Ilsa?" Casey asked.

"Same thing as you."

Chuck rolled out from under the bed and crawled up to his feet. "I tried to warn ya. She's not a photo journalist at all."

"Who do you work for?" Casey asked.

"Why don't you ask your friend?" she said, not pulling her eyes from Casey. "He's already seen my files."

Oh. So...he hadn't been as slick as he'd thought he'd been with that. Woops.

"Uh. Yes. Yeah. Yep. I did get a little peeksy into her...so-called files. She is definitely not whoever she tried to tell you she is."

"You lied to me. Photo journalist my ass."

"Says the energy consultant. At least mine was a real job."

"Energy consultant? Oh, Casey…" He couldn't help but scoff and chuckle, but he stopped himself when he felt more than saw Casey's body tense. Maybe now wasn't the time.

"What about the bomb in Grozny? And that 'I never forgot your face' garbage the other night? You think I'm some kind of idiot? That I don't know something else is going on here?"

"And you were still willing to hop into bed with me, weren't you?"

He snarled at her, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I was. Nobody's perfect."

There was a really unsettling amount of sexual tension between them, like a rubber band that was about to snap, and Chuck had been in situations where a gun was pointed at his head that were preferable to this situation. He needed somebody to swoop in and rescue him.

There was a sudden knock on the door. "Ilsa? Ilsa, are you in there?"

"It's Victor. Hide."

This was not the savior he was looking for. Why did his brain have to open its dumb mouth?

Chuck dove under the bed again, not needing to be told twice.

"You have to trust me," Chuck heard her say, and then Casey quickly joined him under the bed, gun in hand.

"Illssaaaaa…"

Chuck and Casey craned their necks to watch as Victor walked in.

"Illllsaaaaaaa!" He was definitely drunk.

"Victor, what are you doing here? I'm very tired. Please…"

"No, no. That's all you ever have for me, Ilsa. That's all you ever say. I never ask for anything, Ilsa. All I ask is _hic_ that you don't embarrass me in front of my family, my friends."

"I don't embarrass you, Victor. Now go back downstairs so I can sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow."

"Yes, we do! That's just it! We-We're getting married tomorrow!" The feet came closer to the bed. God, he was really drunk. "You get the Federov name, the title, the power of being a Federov. And in return, you are strengthening the family. But what-what do I get? What is Victor supposed to get out of this whole thing?" he half-whined.

Chuck peeked at Casey who had a look of disgust on his face. Chuck really felt that. This guy was pitiful.

"I feel used, Ilsa! You are using me for your status, my-my father is...the family...they're using me too. I demand something for myself!"

"Will you shut up and get out of here? I need sleep," Ilsa snapped.

"What do I get? What do I…" Chuck watched Victor's feet fly out from under him as he staggered towards the bed and then there was a _fwoomf_ as the bed shifted above them, his legs hanging limp up by Chuck and Casey's heads.

He exchanged a look with Casey. The big guy looked downright pissed off.

Suddenly Ilsa planted her palms on the floor and her head swung down to look at them. "You guys need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up." They both crawled out from under the bed. "If Victor sees you, my whole op is ruined."

"Huh? Op?" Casey asked. "You think I'm gonna fall for that line? This ain't no op."

She looked at him, and then glared at Chuck. "You think if I was with the French secret service that I'd keep that on my desk in a conspicuous briefcase? You're both idiots. I don't care if you believe me, but you have to go." She hurried to the door and opened it, looking both ways down the hallway.

When they came up behind her, she turned and pressed herself against Casey. "I don't know who you are, or what you're doing here, Sugar Bear...But I meant everything I said to you. Don't give up on me. On this."

What the hell? Who was this crazy woman, Chuck thought to himself? He'd flashed on her. He'd done his research. She wasn't even slightly telling the truth about the French secret service. Granted, she also didn't know about the Intersect, or that it was stuck in Chuck's brain. She had no idea what he'd just accessed.

And she was lying to Casey's face. What was worse...Casey looked pretty damn reluctant about leaving.

"Casey, c'mon. We gotta go."

And he dragged the NSA agent out of the room and down the hallway. The elevator door opened when they got to it and Sarah rushed out. Chuck caught her by her arms and forced her gently back into the elevator with them. "What the—?" she muttered, giving him a look. "Okay, what in the hell is going on?"

The elevator doors shut and Chuck shook his head. "We're retreating so we can live to fight another day."

"What's that even mean? And what were you two really up to tonight? I'm not a dumbass."

"Nobody said you're a dumbass," Casey growled. "This jackass over here made me do something stupid."

"But Casey, you got answers!"

"Tell me what in the hell you're talking about!" Sarah snapped.

The elevator doors opened and they all stepped out of it. She grabbed Chuck's arm and yanked him the opposite direction of the lobby doors where he'd meant to go. "C'mon. This way. We're leaving through the back just in case. I don't know what you guys just did."

"Well, I thought Casey should-should talk to Ilsa."

"You what?!" she snapped again, sending him a look.

"And he did. Right? Right, Casey? And uh, also, I planted the bug like you said to."

"I thought that was you," she said through a clenched jaw, still dragging him after her by his arm. They burst out of a side door that cleaning staff probably used and were in an underground parking garage.

Maybe he'd failed at the Casey impersonation, too, then. Damn.

"I'll take it from here," Casey growled, grabbing Chuck by his collar and moving him out of the way. "Chuck flashed on Ilsa's briefcase in the bridal suite. She's a criminal. That's that."

"She said she was on an op, though," Chuck said.

"An op? As in she's working for some foreign intelligence agency? Like she's undercover?" Sarah asked, leading them to her car.

"What I flashed on made me think she isn't," Chuck said, looking at Casey out of the corner of his eye. The guy was glum. And he felt horrible. Legitimately. No matter how many times John Casey called him a moron, he didn't deserve this.

Sarah just nodded quietly and told them to get in. She drove them around to the side parking lot on the opposite end of the hotel and they both got out and went back to Casey's van.

The NSA agent just held up a hand and said, "No." Chuck shut his mouth before he could ask if the other man was all right, if he needed to talk. And they were silent the rest of the way home.

}o{

He hadn't slept a single damn wink when the knock sounded on his front door.

It wasn't just thoughts of Ilsa that kept him awake, it was everything else that went with it. He was torn about whether or not she was actually a criminal, a bad person. He didn't know if she was really making a power play, or if it was an op.

And then he did know. He did know because everything pointed to Ilsa Trinchina being a liar. A compulsive liar. Sure, he'd lied too. He'd kept the reality of his work from her. And he knew she hadn't been a photo journalist—he'd known it then, hadn't he? But they'd kept the game going because it had felt really, really good, enjoying one another, being together.

It hadn't been long, but...well, it was long enough. And the shock of losing her had been so sudden, her loss so unfair and wrong, that maybe it had lodged her under his skin in a way it wouldn't have had they just said their goodbyes and walked away from one another.

But she was alive. Marrying Victor Federov, a very powerful Russian oligarch, amassing wealth and power while strengthening the family. She'd said it was an op last night but the chances of that being true were dwindling in his mind, and in his heart.

So he'd sat in his favorite chair just waiting for the morning. He hated the Buy More, but if he spent the day trying to move product, that was at least something he could keep his mind situated on. And in the meantime, maybe they'd figure out some way of getting to the bottom of this and busting Federov the way they'd planned to in the beginning. There was a good chance Ilsa would get caught up in it, too...and that she'd deserve it. Damn it.

Casey ambled over to his door and opened it to see Agent Walker standing there. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line and she tried to smile just a little bit, but he just opened his door wider to let her in.

"Chuck awake yet?" she asked.

He gestured to the monitors and she moved over to glance at them. He slowly followed after her and looked to see Chuck sprawled out over his bed, on his stomach, the sheets all twisted around his legs. Poor kid never slept well, and he wondered if that was the Intersect or if it was stress, or anxiety, or who even knew what? But he tossed and turned every night.

"He always look like that when he sleeps?" she asked.

"You tell me. You're his girlfriend." He let out a quiet snicker, looking at her face for any sort of reaction. He'd take anything he could get at this point.

But she didn't bite this morning.

Actually, she had a deeper frown on her face than he'd seen in a while. And he'd seen the CIA agent frown quite a bit. "What?" he asked. Get to the point, he wanted to add. No tiptoeing. "What is it, Walker?" he asked again when she didn't speak up right away.

"After I left you two at your van, I couldn't stop thinking about-about what you guys told me in the elevator. What she said, I mean, when she was trying to get you to leave before Federov woke up."

"About being a government operative, and how she didn't want us ruining her op?" he asked. He felt a spark of hope in his chest. Maybe he hadn't been stupidly close to having sex with a criminal power-grabbing liar. He felt foolish and...well, there was a lot of guilt there too. Because even though he'd known there was a good chance she was holding the reins with this entire enterprise, he'd been so ready to jump into bed with her again. Ravage one another like old times. He'd missed it. He'd missed her. And in spite of everything, he'd wanted it again. Maybe she wasn't bad. Maybe she was good…

"I took it upon myself to do some deep diving last night and into this morning. I called around, got into contact with some of our people in the intelligence agencies around the world. Interpol, French secret service, MI-6, et cetera… I even spoke to an old teammate who works for ESISC."

Casey felt himself perk up a little bit, and he moved closer. "You did?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to run it through Beckman, just in case you...Well, I'm not sure you want your past with Ilsa to be something your boss knows about. So I decided I'd handle it myself rather than let some NSA jerks do it." He grunted in amusement at her and got a tiny smirk back.

"I think we all know the answer to that, though…" He paused. "Don't we?" Walker didn't say anything. "She lied, didn't she?"

His partner bit her lip, looking extremely contrite, not bothering to hide any of it from him. "Casey, I-I'm sorry. There is no op. At least, not a government sanctioned one. She isn't working for anyone, at least none of the good guys like us. She's working for herself. Like we suspected. The op is a lie. She was just trying to get rid of you."

Without realizing he was doing it, Casey let his head hang. It was like a sock to his gut. With a bazooka.

He nodded and lifted his head again. "Figured that was the case. S'what I get for trustin' women."

"Umm…Thanks." Sarah tilted her head and pointed to herself.

He grunted. "You're not a woman, you're my partner."

"Oh, great. Double thanks."

The amusement on her face made him smile a bit, begrudgingly. He felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him though...and he was still falling. This was crap. Bullshit. He was pissed. And he wanted to hang onto the pissed reaction, because he was too terrified of the ache in his chest.

"Casey, I-I'm really, really sorry. Sometimes people are just…"

"People are assholes," he grumbled. "They're lyin' cheatin' assholes. They're bad. They suck. And yet you and I are out here bustin' our asses to protect them, save them, make it so they can keep livin' their sorry little corrupted, broken lives. An' then what do we get for it? Nothin'. Nada." He grabbed the mug of coffee that'd been sitting there for hours and took a long sip of the dark brew. It was cold and he winced.

Sarah sighed and moved to perch on the edge of his desk, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips. Then she turned slowly and looked down at the monitor as Chuck shifted a little before turning onto his back and blinking a few times, sending an angry look at his alarmclock before reaching over and smacking it hard, rolling onto his side and then just staring at the wall tiredly.

"There are bad ones," she said quietly. "Liars, cheaters, frauds, con artists…" She seemed to get a look on her face then, but it was gone just as quickly, almost like she was in pain for a split second. "People who maybe don't deserve everything that we do. Hell, you and I could probably be tossed into the bad guy pot for things we've done or have allowed to happen. But then...Then there are people like him…" She tossed her thumb towards the screen where Chuck was sitting now, just staring off to the side glumly, deep in thought about something or other. "People like Chuck are out there, too, Casey. And for my money, if there's even one Chuck Bartowski in a pot full of...well, shit...it's worth doing what we're doing to keep that pot safe. Don't you think?"

Casey stared at her, at the way she was staring at Chuck. He wasn't an idiot. He knew. He'd seen it at the start, and he'd seen it grow. And he trusted her. But he'd still seen it. Just like he was seeing it now.

The kid she was making eyes at without even realizing she was doing it probably...that kid was Piranha. _The_ Piranha. It was a name that had been passed around in the halls of Langley a little under ten years ago, just for a few years, and then it had disappeared. But what Chuck told him that day...it really could've bit the guy in the ass. Hard. Telling an NSA agent you were a criminal hacker. Sure, he never caused deaths or defrauded the government or anything like that. But he was still a criminal hacker. And he'd told Casey...he'd done it to help him. That freaking nerd was the real deal, wasn't he? He wasn't the ideal human by any means, definitely not even close to perfect. But Agent Walker was right. Sarah was right. He was worth protecting. He was worth this work they were doing. He stuck his neck out for people in a way Casey'd only seen in punchy hero movies, not for the fame and glory, not for money. But just 'cause...he was good. 'Cause he wanted to help.

"Rather toss him in a bunker and be done with it. That'll protect him." He sucked a bit of air in through his teeth. And when Sarah sent him a flat look, he felt a bit of a guilty look settle itself on his face. He tried to grump it away. "I was kidding. You're right. I'm just...pissed off. I was ready to believe 'er. Serves me right."

Sarah shook her head. "It doesn't serve you right, Casey. Everything in this life tells us not to trust people."

"Yeah, and when I did trust someone, look what happened."

She shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you just trusted the wrong person. I don't think that's on you, Casey. But we have to figure something out now."

"I need time to digest, Walker. Then we can figure something out. For now, I've got a shift at the Buy More to get ready for." He sneered. Not at her, specifically. But just in general.

She nodded and moved to leave, but then she stopped and put a hand on his shoulder. "We can find a way to do this so that it's as painless as possible."

"For who? Me or her?"

"Both. Whatever is easiest for you so that it doesn't feel so shitty."

"I'm fine," he grunted. "We'll talk about it later. Ain't like we got any evidence anyway."

Sarah seemed like she was going to say something else, but she stopped herself and nodded, moving towards the door.

"Hey. Walker." She stopped and turned back, hand on the doorknob. He straightened up and stuck his hands in the pockets of his robe. "Thanks for lookin' out. I've been...a bit of a dick. An asshole. You still made those calls to get the real story. You did that for me so, uh...I guess thanks." He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. Maybe a bit of self-reflection was necessary…

She just smiled at him. "You're my partner. And a good one. Whether you're kind of a jerk sometimes or not." She paused. "Get used to it, though. I don't know how much longer this one is gonna go, and I'm gonna be here watching out for your ass for the duration of it."

Sarah Walker was gone then, and he smiled, snorting to himself and moving to get ready for work.

By the time he got to the Buy More and was surrounded by the usual duldrum, though, the reality of Walker's discovery settled over him. He had a headache and a...something else ache. And he sought out the peace and solitude of the home theater room. He just wished he was allowed to sneak in some night and install a lock. Then again, it would be abused by the absolute idiot-sticks who worked at this damn shithole of a store.

He brought Casablanca with him because… Well, because it was one of his favorites. And when he met a woman named Ilsa, it had done something to his insides. Now that she was revealed to be a criminal mastermind of sorts, a puppeteer putting on a show with a powerful oligarch and his men… Well, it fit, didn't it? No, it didn't fit. The movie had no similarities to his situation... But damn beautiful women named Ilsa, anyway.

Peace and quiet. That was all he needed. Just some peace, and some quiet.

"Hey. Casey. We need to talk."

Fuck.

Without opening his eyes, still massaging the bridge of his nose, he calmly asked, "Is it related to last night?"

"Um. Yes. Well? Yes. Yep."

"Then I don't wanna talk about it."

"Listen. Casey—"

"No, you listen." He sat up and climbed to his feet, cutting it off before it even started. He couldn't deal with another heart to heart. Walker did him a solid last night and again this morning. She didn't pull punches, she just gave it to him straight. And he couldn't deal with one of Chuck's Feelings Sessions right now. Never, really, but especially not right now. "Whatever you thought existed between me and Ilsa, you were wrong, all right? That person has gone back to being dead to me."

He was done with the "Go after her" bullshit Chuck fed to him, even if he took half the blame for eating it up as eagerly as he had. He'd wanted her. He'd wanted her to be on the up and up. But Chuck was wincing, pulling his lips back between his teeth.

"You have something to say, Chuck?"

"Yeah, just that there's a dead lady waiting to see you."

"Huh?" There were footsteps behind him, and he spun to look. Oh. Shit. Damn. Oh, God _damn._

Ilsa walked in, purse over her shoulder, looking up at him through her eyelashes. She didn't look contrite. She didn't look like a camper approaching an angry bear who'd broken into their encampment. She had her spine straight, all confidence. And he felt a tug in his chest. Why'd she have to be so confident and hot in her badness? This was a bad person. Bad. _Bad._

He spun back to look at Chuck who thankfully didn't reveal anything on his face like he normally would have, and then he gave him a subtle _get lost_ look. Chuck cleared his throat and slid out of the room, for once doing it in silence.

Casey turned to Ilsa and straightened to his full height, pulling his shoulders back.

"You always talked to me about this movie when we were together," she said, smiling at him. "I thought it was annoying at first, but then...it got pretty cute. Even if she does break his heart at the end."

"He breaks his own heart," Casey said a bit defensively. "But it-it's a lot more complicated than that." He shook his head, getting to what he really wanted to know. "How'd you find me, Ilsa?"

She smiled a little, still brimming with confidence, and she pulled the bug out of her purse. "Your friend left this under the bed. Just...on the floor. It's very lucky I looked under there when I did, or we'd all be in some trouble if one of Victor's boys found it. He's not much of a spy, your friend."

Casey took the bug from her as she offered it, stepping in close to him, meeting his gaze steadily. He hated that her close proximity was making him remember those nights long ago, when it was just them, together, no holds barred. Those were such good nights. He couldn't remember better nights. Fuck this. "So what do you want?" he demanded, keeping an impenetrable mask on.

"I didn't want to leave things the way we left them last night." She looked at the screen, watched what was happening for a few seconds.

"With your soon-to-be husband, drunk, Russian crime boss whining about not getting enough out of your big time business transaction of a wedding? Get used to it; he's only gonna get worse with old age." He smirked with a quiet grunt. "Well. Old _er_ age."

"That's what I made him think. It's what I made all of them think, John. I can call you that, can't I? John? It's what I called you then." He didn't respond, so she just shook her head and took a deep breath. He watched something come over her face, resolve...resolve about what, he knew he was about to find out. And he braced himself for it. "We've been investigating Victor Federov since the Paris commuter train bombings back in '02. My agency has tried everything to take him to trial, but his organization is airtight, totally legit from the outside. The only way we could take him down was…"

"By pretending you would marry him to strengthen the Federovs in return for a seat at the table? Access to his holdings? His businesses? And every single privilege the Federovs enjoy? It's all pretend to do what exactly? What's your goal, if you're an agent like you say." He grinned. "I bet you aren't even French."

"John...Please. Be reasonable. Why would I lie—?"

"Because you've been lying this whole time. About everything. To me, probably to Federov, to everyone. It's what you do, Ilsa."

"It was for my job."

"Come on, toots. Drop the bullshit. You think I don't have contacts of my own in these agencies you work for? We both know this is all an act, so stop embarrassing yourself. I make one call and you, Victor, and half the Grand Saville are packed on a plane and shipped off to the nearest detention center of my choice." He gave her a satisfied smirk, even if he didn't feel it.

"You're not going to do that." She looked at him through her eyelashes, almost looking like the Ilsa he'd fallen for in that hotel room the first time they slept together.

"Really? Why is that?" he asked sarcastically.

"You feel it, too, John. Sugar Bear." She slowly laid her hands on his chest, almost tentatively, like she wasn't sure how he'd react. He let her, because damn, it felt good to be touched like this again. He cursed himself for it. "This whole thing…" She sighed, smiling a little. "It's true. I did set all of this up. I'm on my way to the top, and with a union like this one—a Trinchina daughter marrying Victor Federov—I'll be the head of the most influential oligarch in Europe, let alone in Russia. And the best part is...I hold the reins. I am in control. I am writing my own story, John. Finally. And it's by _my rules_." She slid her hands up to his shoulders and sidled up to him, her front pressed against his. "I'm finally free."

"By marrying Victor Federov?" he asked, clenching his jaw. It was true. All of it was true. And he was angry, hurt...guilty. Guilty because she was touching him in that way that used to drive him crazy...and it was still driving him crazy. What in the hell was wrong with him?

"I told you, it's my own rules. He doesn't get to touch me. It's all business, Sugar Bear. Unlike...with you." He snarled, trying to pull away, but she held fast. "No, please. Listen. This is why I really came. I didn't really think I could lie to you and get away with it. Not this time. I want to be honest with you." She pleaded with her eyes. "This...between us...it was always real. True. None of that was ever a lie. I wanted you. And I still—I still do. Meeting you again, here…" He swallowed thickly. "It really put a...wrench in my plans in some ways. I was so ready to just go through with all of this, take everything, live the rest of my life on top of the world. But you're here and I don't—I don't want that without you there. Beside me."

This time he did push her hands off of him. Hearing her say those things while she was touching him like that, the tender way she was stroking his shoulders and arms, and the unshed tears lining her gorgeous eyes. She wasn't lying this time. He could see it and feel it.

"This is real, Sugar Bear. We're real. This. Us...I will give you everything you could ever want. You can have me, all the Cuban cigars you could ask for…" She let out a bit of a wet giggle, and he remembered that night after a particularly passionate roll in the sheets, when he'd told her he could really go for a Cuban cigar right about then. She'd laughed, apologized for not being able to provide one for him.

She could now. She could get him anything he wanted.

"And be your kept man while you marry a Russian crime boss?" he snapped. "I'm no mistress."

"It's just a document, John. You'd be mine. I'd be yours. We could have the world. We can have what we had before. What we found in that hotel room. We could have it forever. Just come with me. Sugar Bear…" She cupped his face, letting a tear shed finally.

She was serious. She was a criminal. But he could see the woman he'd loved for the first time since...well. Since before all of this. Since his life got flipped on its head. The Ilsa he'd known then was still here. Or maybe this Ilsa had been there back then and he hadn't known her well enough.

If she thought he'd ever abandon his duty, General Beckman, this mission, his partner, but especially that damn kid out there who'd been given a shit hand and was trying to not only live with it but use it to help others to the best of his ability… Ilsa Trinchina didn't know him at all. And he'd definitely never known her.

"We can just...disappear." She sniffed a bit, looking embarrassed and shy suddenly after putting herself out there like this. "We can go now. If you want."

"You mean...skipping this wedding? Skipping out on all that power?" he asked, smirking. "Seriously? For me?"

She paused for a long time, swallowed hard, and nodded. "You really...fucked things up for me, John."

He frowned. Wow. His hands fell to her waist and he let himself feel her for just a moment longer. He did want this. He wanted her. He really hated himself for it so much it was tearing him up on the inside.

"Maybe I did… But I won't let you do the same to me," he said quietly. "You know this isn't how I operate, Ilsa. I'd never do what you want me to do. Not for anything. Not for anybody."

Maybe she didn't know that wasn't how he operated. It didn't matter. She knew now.

He could see her heart breaking, and she slowly lowered her arms to her side, before she reached up on second thought to wipe at her cheeks quickly, composing herself and frowning. She cast her gaze to the side to stare at the movie again. "So. Is this your revenge?"

"No. I can't leave this place."

"The...Buy More?"

"Sure. The Buy More." Something inside of him smiled a little but it was snuffed out. This was rough, and it sucked that it was so rough considering who she was and what she was planning to do.

"You are...going to arrest me…?" It seemed like less of a question.

Casey slowly shook his head. "For what?" he asked. "I don't have anything."

"I still don't even know who you work for, either. I don't know how you managed to get me to spill the beans, as you Americans would say...and I still know nothing about you."

"I'm good at what I do." He shrugged.

Ilsa backed away with a nod. "Well. Have a good life then. John."

Casey didn't respond, just watching her duck her head and leave the room in a rush. He stared after her through the window as she moved through the store towards the exit, so graceful and lithe and gorgeous. Still the one woman he'd been with who had legitimately been able to make him catch fire when they were together. She moved like she thought there was a catch, like someone would pop out to arrest her after all. But she finally drifted out of sight, and out of the store.

They still had no plan. They weren't likely to have one because he meant to leave work early, bury himself in alcohol, and hopefully just...forget her. Some other schmucks could take care of this. He just wanted to be drunk.

Chuck came back in with a, "Hey, are you—?"

But he just held up a hand and shoved past him, walking right out of the store.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi, me again. David and I are both on the same page about the entire honey pot concept not existing in this rewrite and we're serious about it. It took a lot of phone calls and miserable wracking of our brains, but we found out how to do it and we're pretty proud of what we did together here. Can't wait for y'all to see how it all pans out. Thanks for reading, and please, please review. It means a lot to us!

-SC and DC


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N:** Hi. DC here. For those of you that don't know, IF the Red Mafiya did exist, and I'm not saying they do (gotta protect those knee caps) they are bad dudes and dudettes. Really bad. Super bad. I need you guys to understand that to understand how messed up Casey is right now. To let her off. To let this bunch walk. Casey is in a BAD place, and I don't think that was pointed out enough in the show. Yeah, I have this weird fascination with the mob, if it existed….SC...SC….gimme back the keyboard!

...What keyboard? -SC

 **Disclaimer** : We don't own Chuck and make NOTHING off of this. Nada. Zip.

* * *

Sarah had spent most of her "day off" researching Ilsa Trinchina, trying to find anything about her, or perhaps connect her to some other identity. It wasn't that she wanted to make this harder for Casey. She thought she'd be making it easier, maybe. If she could really solidify a case against Ilsa, come up with evidence that they could arrest her with, it would perhaps provide Casey with some closure.

Maybe she was completely off-base, but she was trying, at least. And she was trying to keep their superiors out of it at the same time.

She was on her way back from running an errand in between spells of fruitless web searches when Chuck texted her about Ilsa showing up at the Buy More. She pulled a quick U-turn and headed straight for the apartment complex. She needed to talk to him and get details about what had happened.

The short texting session ended with Chuck informing her of Casey letting Ilsa walk out of there scot-free, which was something of a relief, if she was honest. It meant he hadn't let himself lose control of his emotions, he hadn't arrested her with no evidence. That would lead to way bigger problems for all of them.

And it meant...as Chuck would say...they would live to fight another day. Like maybe stopping that wedding tonight to keep Ilsa from getting what she wanted. They'd go from there. Which was the last thing she wanted to go into a mission thinking. Go from there? Shit, they needed a plan.

She needed to see Chuck first, though, and get more details on Ilsa's appearance today. What had they talked about? How had Casey seemed?

So she rushed into the courtyard and went straight for his front door, knocking.

The door swept open and she saw Ellie standing there in a robe, holding a giant glass of red wine. "Sarah!" she breathed in pleasant surprise.

Relief spilled through the brunette's pretty features and Sarah took her in. _Uh oh…_ Her hair looked like she'd run her hands through it countless times, her cheeks red, eyes a little puffy...and that probably wasn't her first glass of wine.

"Hi," she chirped, smiling.

"Hi, I'm so glad you're here!" Ellie gasped, grinning. She reached for her like she was a lifesaver and she was drowning in an icy sea, and she dragged her into the apartment.

"Oh! Oh, good…I'm—Me, uh, too." Sarah stared at Ellie, wide-eyed, as the woman spun to face her and put her hand on her shoulder.

"Um. I'm having a little...wine. A little wine. Want some?" she asked, her voice far too cheery for whatever was going on here. Sarah was nervous. No, actually she was scared. Downright scared. She had never seen Ellie like this. Had somebody poisoned her again? No, Sarah knew beyond all doubt that Ellie was self-medicating with the wine. What had happened?

"Uh...I'm actually fine, but you go ahead."

"Okay!" Ellie exclaimed, rushing towards the bottle she'd apparently seen fit to put right next to where she'd no doubt been sitting on the couch. She poured it and then practically guzzled it. Self-medicating indeed.

"Um, is Chuck here?" Sarah asked then. She needed to get away from this situation. It was making her feel way out of her depth. She needed Chuck. Chuck would be able to handle this, right?

Ellie glided back to her, the glass full again. Out of nowhere, she wrapped her arm around Sarah and went for a big hug, holding her wine away from the younger woman, thank God. Sarah tentatively hugged Ellie back, breaking out in a cold sweat. "Nope. No, Chuck isn't here. No, it's, um…" Ellie pulled back and gave her a very fake smile with a lot underneath it. "Nope, it's just...me tonight, um...all-all by myself." She gave another fake cheerful beaming grin and shrugged. "Alllll by myself in this big ol'...apartment. Alone."

What could she really say except… "Oh."

She stared at Ellie, lowering her chin. The way she'd said that, emphasizing the alone part, made her think Awesome had something to do with this. Had he done something...not awesome? Oh God, she needed to get out. She was way out of her depth. Where in the hell was Chuck? God, she didn't know how to handle situations like this.

She supposed the first thing she could do, since she cared about this woman, was to ask, "Um. Are you...okay?"

She braced herself for Ellie's answer. What she got was a thin-lipped, insincere smile, the brunette's green eyes quivering, lined with tears. None of them fell as she nodded a bit manically. "Mhm!"

Oh, boy. Her voice shook in just those two short syllables. She was not okay. But she said she was okay, and was that enough for Sarah to take her at her word and just get the hell out of there? Yep!

She stopped herself then as she took in the incredibly brittle state of the other woman. She was fighting so valiantly to keep her chin from quivering, the tears from falling. And her knuckles were white as she clung to the glass of wine like it was the only thing keeping her standing.

Sarah liked Ellie more than she'd ever meant to, and as terrifying as this whole situation was, as awkward as the next few minutes might feel for her, this was what people did for friends. Wasn't it?

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I'm just making sure, because in spite of you saying you're fine, you seem...not fine."

"No, I'm...okay. Fine." Sarah shut her eyes and took a deep breath, opening them again and fixing Ellie with a stare that said very clearly _you are not fine_. "Look, these things happen," she said to Sarah's look. "They happen in all relationships. I've got my wine. And my job. And I'm handling it."

"Okay." Sarah nodded. "Well...good. But I'm...here. So—"

The floodgates opened so suddenly, the CIA agent really wasn't prepared. At all. And she almost jumped at the sudden sound of Ellie's voice erupting from her.

"It's just that I have both feet in and Devon only has one foot in, so then it's just me taking care of three feet and I want it to be us, you know? Taking care of four feet. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sarah nodded through the whole thing, eyes wide. "Completely," she said, absolutely and totally confused.

What in the ever-loving hell was she talking about? _Was_ this a thing that happened in all relationships? Was she trying to say she was all in and Awesome was only half in? Sarah thought they were pretty serious, but was Awesome less serious than Ellie was? Was that what that meant?

"Of course you do," Ellie breathed in relief, giving her a genuine, grateful smile. And she hugged her again. Sarah hugged back, squeezing a bit because it was obvious Ellie really needed it. "Of course you do. You're Sarah." When she pulled back, she looked a little better. But then she let out a soft squeak, like she was holding in a sob, and she nodded. "I'm gonna go get us some more wine."

Sarah blinked as the other woman rushed off. "O-Okay." But then she paused, hovering awkwardly halfway between the door and the couch where Ellie was already finished with that bottle. "Hey, did you...drink that whole bottle?"

"Mhm! Yep!" Ellie chirped. "And now I'm gonna open another one."

"Do you...think that's the best idea?"

"Yes. I really do." She opened the bottle and began pouring.

"Oh. All...right." Would Chuck be mad at her if she let his sister get alcohol poisoning? What was Ellie's tolerance like, she wondered? And what in the hell had happened to make her think Awesome had...less...feet...or whatever? "Ellie, maybe—Why don't you just sit on the couch and...um, I guess, why don't we talk?"

"That's all I do. It's all I do in this relationship. Not ours," she amended, gesturing between them a bit sloppily with the hand holding the wine. Sarah winced, seeing how close the other woman was to sloshing wine onto their nice floor. Future sober Ellie would be very mad about that. So she went and gracefully plucked the glass from Ellie's fingers. Ellie didn't even seem to notice really, already a little lost to the world in a lot of ways. "I mean, mine and Devon's. I do all the talking. I start all the discussions. He just does things. Stupid, stupid things. And then I have to sit us down to talk. Why do I have to always be the one to explain? Why can't he ever just figure shit out on his own? Is he that...clueless?"

Sarah winced and helped Ellie sit back on the couch, reaching over to set the wine glass on the table. But the moment she did that, Ellie leaned forward to snatch it, bringing it to her lips to take a few long drinks, sniffling and wiping her eyes with her other hand. "I think sometimes men really are...that...clueless. And I'm not even sure what you're talking about, but maybe—" Maybe she shouldn't take Awesome's side in this, just in case. She changed tack. "Let's just go with men are clueless. Especially the straight ones, probably, but I dunno, maybe some of the non-straight ones too." She shrugged.

"Why? It makes this so much harder. Like, like with you and Chuck."

Oh, fuck.

"What, um, what about...me and Chuck?" Sarah asked, not wanting to go into this at all. What was she going to have to explain to Chuck after this so they were on the same page and could keep up the cover? And how damn awkward was that conversation going to be?

"Does he pay attention to you? To what you're saying? Does he _get you_? I mean really get you?"

Sarah pushed out of her mind the complicated feelings that went with her answer and just...told Ellie the truth. _Some_ truth. Because...well, she wanted to. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, we're a totally different ballgame than you and Awes—Devon," she said emphatically, but luckily Ellie didn't catch the slip. She was hunched forward a little, a permanent pout on her face. "Chuck and I have been together for, um, like two-ish months, you know? And you and Devon have years. But...Chuck is...a good boyfriend. I mean, he really has been. For two months. I guess. I'm not...all that...experienced at legitimate relationships."

Shit, had she really just admitted that? It wasn't like she'd just revealed something that would hurt the cover. But it was the truth. And that felt so strange. Maybe Ellie would black out and wake up tomorrow with no knowledge of this conversation. But then it felt sort of good just...saying things to this other woman and knowing there wouldn't be any judgment. "He's...really good to me."

Ellie took her hand then and squeezed. Sarah tried to ignore how clammy and cold they were. "Good. Good, I'm glad. But…" She sniffed. "Does he listen?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah. He does. He isn't...perfect. But that's the thing, Ellie. No-Nobody is."

"Well, he should try harder to be more perfect," Ellie groused, and then she gestured with her hand between them. "You deserve perfection. We both do."

That made her giggle a little. How convinced Drunk Ellie was that Sarah deserved a good guy, let alone a guy like Chuck warmed her to no end. But it also made her feel like curling into a ball and crying.

"Unfortunately, that ain't gonna happen. And Devon is a really good guy. Really good."

"Yeah. But he's also a fucking idiot." Sarah snorted. But then Ellie huffed and shook her head. "He isn't really that bad. It's more that we don't...we aren't meeting in the middle. I'm serious. I'm ready for intimacy and he's just...not." Sarah's eyes widened and Ellie sniffed in amusement. "I didn't mean that kind of intimacy. How am I supposed to build my life with a big manchild?"

"I...er, I don't know."

"I shouldn't be bringing you and Chuck into it. I'm sorry. Your relationship is very new and the whole seriousness question is...not...on the table yet." But then she eyed her steadily. "Is it?"

"Uh...no?"

Ellie let go of her hand to pour more wine, which made it so Sarah could start twisting her hands together in her lap.

"A washer and dryer. For our anniversary. I mean, it isn't even that, it's...the fact that he thinks getting something only he wants for our anniversary is okay, like I'd be good with that. Everything is always his way and he's totally clueless. He doesn't...he doesn't listen to me."

Sarah just let her go, nodding, wondering if maybe she should have some wine at this point, and then Ellie swerved again.

"Does Chuck ever do the things you wanna do? You two spend so much time together, but is it only his stuff?" Ellie scoffed at herself then. "There I go again. I'm sorry. It's not my business."

"No, it-it's...okay? I just...like I said, it's still kind of new? We, um…" She thought back to the skating rink, and the countless "dates" that were actual missions, missions that put Chuck's life at risk, when she knew he'd rather be in a movie theater with popcorn or playing video games in her apartment. She shrugged, a bit unsure of how to answer. "It's pretty equal."

It wasn't, though. Besides that gaming night, he bent over backwards for her—for all of them. He didn't have much of a choice. They didn't give him one.

"Why are men so difficult?" Ellie groaned, letting her head fall back. Oh. Right. So they'd moved on from that then. Had Ellie even heard what she said? She didn't know.

"I...don't...um, know." Her phone started buzzing and she made a desperate grab for it, pulling it out and looking at the screen. Thank God. "Just a sec, Ellie, it's your brother."

"Tell him men are horrible and he needs to do something about it."

Sarah winced and answered. "Hey."

"Oh! Oh! My God hey! Hey hey!" He was out of breath, frantic. Oh, shit, what happened?

"What's going on, Chuck?" she asked, moving away from the couch and pacing.

"Hey! I...did something stupid. I definitely did something stupid. But it's done. It's done now and…"

"What did you do?" she asked. Nothing good. She knew nothing good.

"Um."

"Chuck? Just tell me."

"I persuaded Casey to go to the wedding, to stop the wedding, to stop Ilsa and Federov." She heard Casey on the other end of the line, grumbling "This way!" Which meant they were already at the hotel. Oh, this was bad. She had to go now.

"Why'd you do that? We were gonna wait until…" She looked over her shoulder at Ellie to see she wasn't paying attention. "We had a plan."

"He was _so_ sad and not himself."

"Perfect time for you to send him into the lion's den...and follow after him," she hissed.

"I got caught up in my Casablanca analogy! I'm sorry, okay?!"

What? She shook her head. "Okay, just—Uh…" Ellie was looking at her now, expectantly. "I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone and smiled apologetically at Chuck's sister. "Uh, Ellie, I hate to do this to you..."

"No, nononono. No. We're gonna...we're gonna talk more about Chuck. About you and Chuck. After this whole thing with Devon, I'm just—I want to make sure that you-that you make sure you're both on the same track, you know? We have a lot to talk about, I can't be alone right now…"

Sarah let out a breath and shook her head. "You know what? We can talk about this as soon as I get back, okay?" Please God no. Please, please, please no.

She whipped open the door, jumping a little as she found Morgan standing there, a curious look on his face.

"DEVON?!" Ellie called out, sounding very desperate. God, she really didn't want to leave the poor woman alone right now.

"I was just lookin' for, uh…" Morgan peeked around Sarah and walked right in. "Oh, hey, what's goin' on here, ladies? Little girl's night? Why's Ellie the only one with a glass? Did she finish that whole bottle?"

"Mhm," Sarah chirped. "Before I even got here."

"Sarah, please...please, I can't...please don't leave tonight. Devon isn't here and I don't know…"

Sarah watched as she sat back, starting to cry a little, pushing her hands through her hair. She grabbed Morgan, turning him so his back was to Ellie and giving him a pleading look. "Morgan, Ellie is a little upset…" She secretly mimicked raising a glass and his eyes widened before he winced in understanding. "So if you could just...please take care of her."

"Absolutely you got it I'm your man," he rushed out quickly, standing a bit taller.

"Okay. Thank you. Thank you," she said, squeezing his arms.

"Ellie, I'll talk to you soon!" Ellie just pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead and started crying.

It tore Sarah apart to back out of there at the sight of this woman who'd befriended her so readily suffering this badly. But she thought Ellie would feel a lot worse if her brother went and got himself killed by a Russian crime boss. She would have to apologize big time later.

To Chuck, too. Considering she really wasn't sure if she'd dug them into a deeper hole with that conversation.

}o{

Chuck had been working all day on something away from all the prying eyes of the Buy More employees. Last night had bugged him. There was no way the John Casey he knew was going to let Ilsa get away with this. The problem was, this current John Casey wasn't the John Casey he knew. It made no sense that they had nothing on which to arrest these Russians... and then it hit him. The Intersect pulled all sorts of info from multiple US databanks and his brain was used to process that information….at least that's how he understood it. What about other countries' databanks? What information did they have? He was the one person with the ability to figure it out and access said information.

He found a spot in the cage, guaranteeing him little to no interruptions from his coworkers, erased all the video footage of what he was doing, and logged in under Lester's username just in case. He knew that was wrong, but after what Lester had done to Sarah…

Chuck rolled his head, feeling his neck pop in a few places. He really needed to get his feelings under control. He began to search databases, taking copious notes of everything he flashed on. He was getting a headache but he was getting enough info from allies to be able to provide them with hard evidence.

As he'd been working, he'd spotted Ilsa entering the store on the video surveillance system, rushing to intercept her before leading her to Casey.

And after he returned, he started compiling everything. He was stunned at how many countries had evidence on Ilsa and her soon-to-be husband, but without the proper context had no way to match the evidence to the crime. He made notes and in no time he had info on both sides of the wedding party and evidence of over forty major crimes. It was insane.

Ilsa left and Casey followed suit soon after.

Chuck texted Sarah to tell her what was up, but he realized he had to fill Casey in on everything. He rushed home...well, as fast as the Herder would go...pulled up to the curb, and saw Sarah's car. Ellie. She was still fighting with Awesome, which meant Sarah had probably gotten roped into his sister's relationship troubles.

He didn't need to be a part of that. Or did he? Would they talk about him? He shuddered, but he was on a mission and he headed toward Casey's. He nearly knocked on the door, then realized Casey was probably not in a great state, and perhaps wouldn't be capable of opening the door on his own. Chuck took the risk, opening the door to see Casey sitting there in his recliner...in nothing but his boxers.

"A lot of Scotch and a little Neil," Chuck said to him as he walked in and stood over him. "Everything okay, buddy?"

"Just enjoying myself a little R & R," Casey explained. "Needed something to help me forget...preferably this entire mission."

"Mm-hmm," Chuck replied, not believing him.

"Want a drink?" Casey offered.

"No, no. Thanks, though, I really appreciate it," Chuck said. He walked around the chair and sat on a crate instead of the couch, thinking he might have to poke his eyes out if Casey spread his legs at all while wearing those boxers. "No, just, uh, just thought I'd check in on you, you know, what with Ilsa getting married in an hour and…"

"Thanks for reminding me," Casey said, pointing to him. "Here's to John Casey dodging another bullet." He raised his glass for a toast. "It's not like I want the wife and kids and the Little League practice and the minivan and the Costco runs on the weekend."

"Yeah, really, you don't? 'Cause I—It, it seems to me that you'd kind of be into the whole American Dream."

"Nah," Casey replied, setting down the bottle. "I do what I do... so all those other slobs out there can have it." He looked up at Chuck. "Like you…and Walker."

"Pretty sure Sarah isn't into that whole thing," Chuck replied. Casey stared at him. "What?"

"You really are a dumbass," he said and took a drink. "Give her time, Bartowski."

Chuck needed to change the subject. "What, uh, what would you say your dream is?"

"You're looking at it." He picked up a hot pocket and bit into it. He chewed for a minute. "Besides, Chuck, it's not like Ilsa left me empty-handed. She reminded me that I fell for a bad person, and I let her go free."

"About that," Chuck began.

"Chuck, we have nothing on her," Casey said, getting up and stumbling a bit. "Do you think I would've let her walk out of the Buy More if we did?" He turned to Chuck and pointed to him. "I should've put a bug on her." His eyes focused on the paper in Chuck's hand. "Wha's that?"

"The evidence we need from ally countries to put both of them away forever," Chuck replied, handing Casey the info.

He looked at it and then back to Chuck. "You got this by flashing?"

Chuck made a face and shook his head. "Found the info through hacking—I know, I know," he said, raising his hands defensively. "No one caught me."

Casey stared at him and then back to the paper. "Bartowski, this is good work. This is good spy work." He was quiet for a second. "When this is over, we need to talk about some things, but you, you need to tell Sarah."

"Casey...I can't," he began. He nearly fell over the crate he was sitting on as Casey stepped toward him and stopped right in front of him.

"Don't do what I did, kid. Don't kill your chance. Tell her the truth, let her make the decision."

Chuck searched Casey's face. "This isn't just about Ilsa is it?" Casey shook his head. "Dear God, how many women have you loved and lost?" He winced. "Sorry."

"S'alright, too many. We'll get our people down there to arrest them," Casey said, nodding.

"I guess Ilsa's not getting on that plane in Casablanca after all, huh?" Chuck asked smiling.

"Don't you understand, Bartowski?" Casey began, looking mad. "She can't be Ilsa. We're arresting her."

"Then who's Ilsa? Who is going to be the one that will regret it, 'Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life'?"

Casey was quiet for a second and then his eyes grew wide as if he'd had an epiphany. "Me," he said looking down at Chuck. "If I don't arrest her, I'm the one that will regret it."

"You're Ilsa?" he asked thinking about it, and standing. He slowly started to nod. "You're Ilsa." Casey nodded. "YOU are Ilsa!" Chuck thought for a second. "Does that mean Ilsa is Rick?"

Casey though for a second and shook his head. "I wish, because Rick loved Ilsa, but the real Ilsa wouldn't do the right thing. She wanted me to leave with her, and I can't leave with her. I've got a job."

"That's right," Chuck said, wondering if Casey would remember any of this insanity later. "You're a patriot!"

Casey's eyes narrowed. "In reality, Rick and Renault were probably executed by the Nazis after that last scene."

Chuck's eyes widened. "Okay, well, that's a real bummer and probably has ruined that movie for me forever, but buddy, come on. We gotta do the right thing here. We gotta go and get these guys." Casey started toward the door. "Whoa, uh, hey, Ca-Casey, Casey, Casey, Casey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, where are you going?"

He grabbed his gun and turned to Chuck. "To stop a wedding, Chuck."

"No, no, no. No, you're not, no, you're not, not like that." Chuck said, stopping him. "Scotch and driving—Very, very bad combo and as far as I know, also illegal. Also, you don't have pants on."

"You're absolutely right," Casey said, thrusting the keys at Chuck, drunkenly. "You're driving." Casey stumbled away. "I need pants!" he yelled.

"I said that already!" Chuck yelled after him. "Sarah is gonna kill me," Chuck muttered.

}o{

The two snuck down the hallway to where Ilsa's room was, although Casey stumbled a little more than he snuck. He then pulled out a key card.

"Where did you get that?" Chuck asked. Casey gave him a look. "Dear God, you nearly had sex with a mobster, didn't you?" Casey shrugged, trying to look innocent.

"What can I say, sometimes doing it with a bad girl is exciting."

Chuck blinked a few times trying to force those words out of his head. "I hope you don't remember a bit of this," he muttered. Casey opened the door and there was Ilsa, her men, and numerous guns pointed right at them. "Is this exciting, Casey? Because she's being very bad right now."

"Yeah, she is, isn't she?" Casey said in a growl.

"Oh, God," Chuck said, trying not to throw up in his mouth. He looked at Ilsa's men. "When you tie us up, please gag him, please." A few minutes later the two found themselves tied up, back to back. Chuck looked at Ilsa. "Really? You're not going to?"

"Not going to what?" Ilsa asked.

"Tell us your evil plan about how you're going to do something to us and make it look like an accident," Chuck said.

Ilsa bent down in front of Casey and Chuck turned away. "I'm going to get married to that sniveling man, I am going to load you two into my private plane, take you to Russia, and have you killed...unless you have other things you'd like to do, John?"

"Wow, talk about a conundrum," Chuck said, still not looking at the two. "Bad girl sex all the time if you want it, but you have to be a side piece, with a mafia leader, in Russia. Hard call, Buddy."

"Well, Casey?" Ilsa asked.

"I'm thinking," Casey answered. Ilsa rolled her eyes and left, followed by her fiancé and most of his men. "Don't ask, Bartowski."

"What am I not supposed to ask?" Chuck asked. "If the sex is that good you might consider just staying with her?"

"That, numbnuts, that's what you weren't supposed to ask," Casey growled. Chuck started laughing. "What?"

"I just find it funny, that my love life isn't as complicated as yours, and that's saying something."

"You don't have a love life," Casey retorted.

"And you do?" Chuck shot back. "Casey, go with her. Then you can try to find a way to escape."

"What about you?"

"Well, maybe I'll ask her not to kill me?"

Casey was silent for a second. "You shouldn't be in this mess," he grumbled. "I know I'd said we'd talk after this is over but...damn it, Bartowski, you need to tell her."

"Tell who what? Tell Ilsa I'll be her boy toy instead?"

"Christ, no!" Casey said, shaking his head as if to make sure that image never made its way to his brain. "Tell Walker about the thing. When we get out of here."

"What good would it do, Casey? Huh?"

"Well, for one thing, numbnuts, she'd be better able to protect you if she knew."

"Protecting me is gonna get her killed one of these days," Chuck groused. "That is, if we get out of this."

"There's a way, Chuck," Casey said quickly.

"Well, I'm all for an escape plan right now."

"No. You and Walker." Casey paused for a long time, as if thinking hard about it, second guessing himself a few times, before resolve settled on his features. "You could choose to become an NSA agent."

"I...what?"

"If you become an NSA agent, you and Walker can do…whatever the hell you two want to do. Hell, it might be better for the team," Casey admitted. "Obviously, the fact that I just admitted that means I'm still drunk."

"Casey, I don't know," Chuck said, thinking over all the possibilities. "I don't think it'd go over so well. After what we found out at Stanford…"

"Bartowski, I said an NSA agent, not CIA. Look, you and I both know there is something hinky about this whole thing from their side, and we both know Walker is not loyal to them when it comes to this project… Don't we, Bartowski?"

"We do," Chuck admitted softly.

"You'd be more protected."

"But won't Beckman want the Intersect all to herself?" Chuck asked.

"That's the beauty of it. If the CIA wants to stay in this project, then they have to play ball with us, and only one agent has been read into the project." He paused. "It's a good deal, Bartowski...a lot better than the one you currently have. Plus you'd get paid."

He stared. And then he realized… "Beckman has talked to you about this."

"She has, Bartowski, but it's because she's nervous about the CIA." Casey took a deep breath. "She doesn't trust Graham."

"I don't know if Graham trusts Graham," Chuck replied. "I'll think about it if we get out of here."

"We can get out of here...with acceptable losses," Casey replied.

"Just for curiosity's sake, what might be considered an acceptable loss?"

"Breaks and punctures, possible loss of a limb, no major organ damage," Casey replied. "This is all stuff you'd learn as an NSA agent."

"I don't think recruitment is really your calling," Chuck muttered.

}o{

It didn't take Agent Walker long to find the wedding party behind the hotel. She walked around the building, scaled a wall, and landed gracefully in a rose garden. All she had to do was follow the scent of chlorine and she found the pool area where the usual white folded chairs were set up, the altar...and that was where she spotted the apparent groom shaking hands with business associates, and most likely other Russian criminals.

She slid behind a well-manicured tree and peeked out from around it, casting her gaze over everyone sitting and standing in the crowd. She didn't see Ilsa. But of course...she was the bride, and she'd be making her big entrance later. That was what brides did, right?

Most importantly, Casey and Chuck were nowhere to be seen.

Everyone moved to take their seats and Federov stepped up to the altar, straightening his suit, his face filled with pride. Was even one person out here falling for it? They had to all know this was no more than a business transaction, a way to bring two high powered individuals more power and more money respectively.

The music began, the bridesmaids making their way towards the front to stand in their places.

She had no idea what to do here, except that she needed to find Chuck stat. And when she saw the bridesmaids were finally in place, she quickly sunk further behind the tree.

There was Ilsa, tall and graceful in her wedding gown, a serious, no-nonsense look on her face. Unlike Federov, there was no pride or happiness there. She wasn't playing games. She was poised as if walking into a business meeting, about to give a PowerPoint presentation to get that raise she'd worked so hard for.

This woman was ice-cold. Sarah'd be damned if she let Ilsa get that raise...and while hurting her partner all in one fell swoop? Hell no.

She needed to find Chuck before this ceremony got to the vows. Thank God Ilsa wasn't jogging down the aisle.

Sarah pulled her phone out and kept one eye on the ceremony, trying to play innocent as she pursed her lips and angled herself away from Federov, Ilsa, and their friends. She dialed Chuck's number and brought the phone to her ear.

The moment the phone rang in her ear, she heard the Mexican hat dance ringtone behind her somewhere. Chuck's ringtone. She spun on her heel and watched as... _he_ stood up. He went into his pocket to fish what was definitely Chuck's phone out of his pocket. He had Chuck's phone. Which meant they'd gotten ahold of Chuck. At least. If not Casey also.

What if she was too late?

She let the phone continue ringing, waiting for him to answer it, and she thought about breaking more than this fucker's thumb if he'd hurt even a single hair on Chuck. He was coming right towards her, though, so she turned her back to him as he hurried past. "Hello?" he asked into Chuck's phone. "Hello…?"

Slowly turning back, she clenched her jaw and stalked him like a lioness stalking after her prey. Once he was far enough away from the wedding party, she rushed up behind him.

"How many times do we have to go through this?" she asked in a low, threatening voice.

He spun, fear and anger in his face, bringing his arm around to try to hit her. She stepped back so that he met with air and she slammed her heel right into his chest, sending him sprawling against the corner of the wall. He tried to clutch at the spot where she'd kicked him, but she pinned him, her heel threateningly pressed into his throat.

She had her gun in his face immediately. "Where's Chuck Bartowski?" she asked, trying to keep her voice under control, her anger in check. If she killed this guy now, she'd never find Chuck and Casey.

The Russian whimpered, a full-on whimper, and she sunk her heel a little further into his neck so that he gurgled. But he didn't talk, tightening his jaw and shutting his mouth pointedly.

"You realize I could make you suffer right here with all those people just feet away, none of them knowing what's happening to their comrade...don't you?" she snarled, lowering her voice even more and setting the muzzle right up against his forehead. "This close, the bullet would make sure every last bit of your brains paint the bricks behind you."

"P-Please…"

"Where. Is. Chuck. Bartowski? The man whose phone this is. Where are you keeping him?"

He lifted his gaze over her head, then raised his finger to point, right as she heard a high-pitched yell she recognized immediately. _Fuck._

She spun to look up and saw Chuck literally hanging over the railing of a balcony, screaming and kicking his legs to try to get a footing against the bars. She spun back and brought the butt of her gun down against the Russian mobster's temple to knock him out, before rushing forward towards Chuck.

Her heart went into her throat as she watched him lurch forward, Casey tied to him, back to back… and they toppled over the edge.

Her voice died before she could scream. And she froze, so many emotions bursting through her at once that she was virtually immobilized.

And then they hit the pool so hard, so loudly, that the audience around it let out a collective groan.

Sarah had every intention of sprinting up to the pool and diving in to try to...God, she didn't even know what…

But then both of their heads popped up from the water, both gasping for breath...both alive. She pressed a hand to her chest in relief, gasping. Casey practically yanked Chuck to his feet in the pool, then left the sputtering nerd behind, slogging through the water, up the steps, and finally standing on the cement behind the guests, dripping, angry.

"Hope I'm not too late to object to this union," he snarked.

She had to admit it was a good one. But nobody else seemed to think so except for Chuck, who managed to get past the shock and terror resulting from his fall enough to point at Casey with a bit of a dazed, crooked smile. She imagined him filing that away for later…

If there was a later.

Since at least ten guns were pointed at Casey now.

"What in the hell is this?" Federov asked, taking a step down from the altar and gesturing to the sopping wet NSA agent. "Who the hell you think you are interrupting my wedding?"

Casey turned to look at Ilsa and grit his teeth, pointing at her. "Your name might be Ilsa, Ilsa, but I'm the real Ilsa in this situation. And I'm doin' the right thing, whether you're…" He paused. "...someone I once...shared something with or not."

"This guy?" Federov asked Ilsa, sending her a big smirk. "Oh, Ilsa...dear...you—"

"Shut up, Victor," Ilsa snapped. She stepped down, too, pulling a gun out from her dress and pointing it at Chuck who was just now starting to slog his way up the steps of the pool.

Sarah decided enough was enough and she hurried forward, pointing her own gun at the other woman. "Enough." She sidled up in front of Chuck, just in case. "This wedding isn't going to happen."

"Like hell it isn't," Federov groused. "You have one gun between the three of you. Look at all of my men here. Ilsa," he turned back. "Come. Let's continue the ceremony."

"I gave you a choice, Sugar Bear." Sarah made a face at that. _Gross._ "I promised you I would love you forever if you came with me. I promised you power."

Federov froze. "Ilsa…?"

"Yeah, and I turned ya down," Casey said, shrugging. "I have a job to do here. And right now, that's stopping this wedding."

"Ilsa, you were going to run away? From this?"

"Yes. I suppose I was. I'm not now. Let's finish this wedding. And then, Victor...darling," she snarked, "You can do what you want with the agents. As a wedding gift, from me to you. How's that?"

"This union has been planned for almost a whole year, the union of your father and my family, the biggest merger in modern Russian history… And you were going to leave it behind for...what? Love? Like this is some kind of terrible Hollywood movie?" Federov scoffed. "Women are fools."

And just like that, he snatched the gun out of Ilsa's hand. She turned to boggle at him as he handed the gun to one of his groomsmen. "Let's just get this over with."

"Sarah… Sarah, shoot her."

Sarah turned to give Chuck a look over her shoulder. "What?"

"If you shoot her, I'm not so sure her father wouldn't track down every last one of Federov's lackeys and kill them in grisly 'accidental' ways," he said, throwing air quotes up and sending water droplets all over. "You know, like...oh, his car stalled on the train tracks and WHAM! Or he drowned in his pool. Fell in his shower. Heeeart faaailure wink wink… You know…"

"Oh, he accidentally shot himself while cleaning his gun," Casey added in. "Fell asleep at the wheel on a dark abandoned road is my favorite one, though. Personally."

Chuck gestured towards Casey excitedly. "See? He knows what's up. I can't imagine any of them would get away with Ilsa Trinchina dying under their watch. I mean, isn't that how this guy operates?"

"Nice try, kid." Casey shook his head. "But there are a lot of 'em. And Sarah's not gonna get a shot off before she's full o' holes. Right, gents?"

Sarah heard Chuck gulp.

"But I've got the head of the NSA backing me up right now. We've got every last one of you in our files—name, rank, a list of crimes you're connected with. And we've got enough to never let you leave American soil again. Not any of you. And that includes you, Mr. Federov." Casey thrust his hands out in front of him and shrugged, and Sarah knew exactly what he was doing. He'd read the room, as it were.

None of these guys were thrilled about the union between the Federovs and the Trinchinas. It had been Ilsa's brainchild all along, her own bid for power...and they saw it, felt it, resented it. Resented her.

She'd witnessed the lack of respect they had for women firsthand, and to have had to watch a woman play Victor Federov like a fiddle, play every man around her like a fiddle, must have rankled with their misogyny so bad. But they followed orders, didn't they?

Casey was playing off of their hatred and their misogyny. And he was sort of a genius, wasn't he? She tried to keep the awe out of her features as Casey turned his hands over, palms down, and lowered them.

"Put the weapons down," he said slowly. "Let us arrest Ilsa. And you can get on your little airplane to go back home to Mother Russia. I can't make any promises if any of you ever come back. We'll call off the attack dogs 'til you get out. But let us have this one." He turned and looked up at Ilsa. "I'm guessing not a single tear is gonna be shed by any of ya if she's out of the picture."

Federov was the first one to speak after a few tense moments. Ilsa was visibly sweating as he did. "Ilsa… You protect your family maybe not as good as me. And maybe that was your downfall. In the end."

She whipped around to shoot an accusatory, shocked look at him. "No! You aren't doing this. He is lying! They have no back-up. There are just the three of them! All you have to do is kill the one with the gun!"

"The Federovs come first, darling." He shrugged. "And if your dear papa wants to come talk to us about it, he can. I'm not spending the rest of my days in an American prison for you."

"Prison? Victor, you know your family would have you out in no time."

He shrugged again. "I suppose you aren't even worth that much trouble, Ilsa." Then Federov turned to his men. "Put the guns down." A few of the men on the other side of the aisle looked resistant...perhaps they were some of Trinchina's men, but they were outnumbered, and Federov's lackeys had them surrounded. So they bent down to set their guns on the ground finally, holding their hands up.

Sarah supposed she was all right with Federov's men merely sheathing their weapons. For now. And she grabbed her phone, calling for back-up immediately.

As she hung up, Casey walked through the Trinchina goons to pick up their weapons. And she wondered if he was bluffing the whole time, or if the NSA really did have every single one of these guys on file. As far as she knew, Chuck hadn't flashed on them. Would he have if they were in the NSA's files? He'd flashed on her, hadn't he? On Lazslo. On Carina. On so many other agents and criminals and files…

And she decided she genuinely didn't know how in the hell the Intersect worked.

"That-That worked?" Chuck breathed behind her. And then he stepped up next to her and she turned to watch as he blinked, stunned. "I hafta ask, was he bluffing?"

She shushed him, sending him a look. And then through her teeth she admitted, "I'm not sure, but let's not broadcast that, huh?"

"Oh. Shit." He winced and zipped his mouth, eyes wide. She couldn't help but curl her fingers around his wet bicep, squeezing, almost as if to check that he was still in one piece, even as she watched Casey cuff Ilsa Trinchina who was still in some state of shock.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Shit."

She felt Chuck's gaze on the side of her face, but she kept her eyes focused on Casey. She hadn't known he'd been asked to run away, that he'd had something genuine with Ilsa Trinchina—at least at some point. And she wondered how tempted he'd been.

Sarah found she couldn't blame him if he was tempted. And that left her feeling...well, raw. She felt incredibly raw.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please please review. We appreciate them so much.

-SC and DC


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N:** *DC reads reviews….turns to the camera and smirks*

 **Disclaimer:** No money...NONE, nada, zip, not a penny, is made from this since neither of us own Chuck.

* * *

Casey's monitor came on as he was getting ready for a day at the Buy More.

"Major, are you secure?" Beckman asked.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Any movement on the Bartowski front?" Beckman asked.

"I have suggested that he might be able to have a...relationship with Agent Walker if he were an agent," Casey replied, shaking his head at the memory of being tied to Chuck in that hotel room.

"And he didn't go for it?" Beckman asked, shock covering her face.

"The kid has issues, General." He paused and grimaced. "His issues have issues."

"Do I need to send him the hours of surveillance footage I have of her mooning after him?"

"Thought I had cleaned all of those up," Casey muttered.

She gave him a flat look. "Major, you'd have to wipe every bit of surveillance footage clean. Graham's timeline is speeding up and we need to be ready. There is no telling what he'll do to Chuck."

"Copy that, General," Casey replied as the screen went blank. He realized what he had to do. "Christ," he muttered.

}o{

It had been a couple of days since she'd last talked to Chuck. She hadn't been avoiding him as much as she hadn't been seeking him out. He was busy at the Buy More, there had been no new assignments, and things were happening at the Wienerlicious. She grinned. He was going to be so upset that the costumes were going to be gone, and if she was honest, she was going to miss how he tried his best to not notice her legs in them.

"But, Sir, I've worked here since high school," she heard Scooter say. The grin on her face grew. "Well, do you think I could have the name of the new owner of the Orange Orange? I need a job. What do you mean I can move to Topeka and manage the Wienerlicious there? Sir, I'd like to stay here in Burbank, so if I could have the name...?" Sarah didn't look up, but she was wiping the counter where she could see his face out of the corner of her eye. She heard him make a choking sound and she twisted her lips to the side. "I'm sorry?! Can you repeat that? Sarah...Walker...she's the owner of the Orange Orange?" Scooter looked up at her as she gave him a smile and batted her eyelashes. "...What benefits do I get if I manage the Topeka location?"

The doorbell rang and she looked up, shocked by who she saw. She had been avoiding him as well...also not on purpose...

"Hey, Sarah," Devon said, sending her spy senses on high alert. He sounded...doubtful. Devon Woodcomb was many things but doubtful had never been one of them.

Ellie had text her and told her they had worked things out. She had hinted at another girls night, but right now that was the absolute last thing she needed. Between that last chat she'd had with a distraught Ellie and then watching Casey give up on a future with Ilsa, there were too many things running around in her head…and if she was really honest with herself, her heart.

"Everything okay, Devon?" He made a face and brushed her concerns off, but she could see some fear underneath it. "Hey, I'm your friend, too."

And that's when it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was. She was Chuck's friend, she was Ellie's friend, and she was Devon's friend. She had been sucked into this family. It was in that moment she knew, deep down, if Chuck had asked her to run away, not the icky and, frankly, criminal way in which Ilsa had asked Casey, but to legitimately leave this place with him...she might do it. That was terrifying, in several different ways.

"You're Ellie's friend, Sarah. So I'm sure she, um, Ellie must've told you she and I had some problems over our anniversary..." Sarah nodded, hoping he wasn't thinking she would take sides. "Fighting and having that short amount of time we weren't talking made me realize something. Sarah, she's my partner." He wasn't doing it on purpose, but this was hitting Sarah right in the gut. "But...I know I'm an expressive guy, a hugger, loud, bombastic, that's who I am. I accept that. For all that, I can't even compare to those Bartowskis in the emotion...spewing department, and part of me thinks you might... get that."

"God, they're exhausting sometimes," she admitted with a grin. "And they want to talk about everything, and every tiny little feeling and they're just so…"

"Intense?"

"YES!" Sarah said, surprised at how relieved she was.

"I love her, Sarah, I do, and she's the one." He paused. "She and Chuck have been through so much…"

She reached over and put her hand on his forearm. He looked up at her. "Devon," she said softly. "He already thinks of you as his brother. You know what to do. I get you're scared, but everyone who sees you two together knows." He nodded, a soft smile on his face. "Go talk to Chuck."

"You know, you're not fooling anyone," Devon said, looking her in the eye. "Everyone knows how you feel. I think you've got the same problem I have. They are so…." He looked up at the ceiling, chuckled, and looked back at her. "The Bartowskis are a lot, and maybe this isn't humble, but it takes a special person to be with them. Don't doubt yourself, or his feelings for you."

"I don't think we're quite where you two are," Sarah replied.

"Or maybe you are," he said, winking at her, and heading toward the door. "Thank you, Sarah."

"Anytime, Devon," Sarah said. As soon as he left, she slumped. First Ellie and "four feet in", now this from Devon. She and Chuck had to figure out how to walk this minefield without...without setting off a bomb. Because she knew firsthand what happened with them and bombs, and that was the problem, wasn't it?

"Trouble in paradise, Miss Walker?" Scooter snarked.

Sarah turned to him and smiled, honey dripping from her voice. "Enjoy Topeka, Scooter." Scooter dropped his head onto the table. Sarah wasn't sure when she had felt more satisfied in her life.

}o{

"Shawarma girl, incoming," Lester said to Jeff and the two hurried off. Chuck looked up and saw her. He felt Casey come up next to him.

"What are those two numbnuts up to?" Casey asked.

"Probably something pornographic and illegal," Chuck replied. Casey grunted and they both followed Jeff and Lester. Lester noticed them coming, turned, and walked towards Chuck.

"What are you two doing?" Chuck asked.

"Nothing," Lester replied. "We have gotten rid of our camera, we have gotten rid of the lipstick camera, we have nothing left, Chuck. You have ended us."

"I highly doubt that," Casey muttered.

"Say, Lester, uhh...Sarah wanted to know if you wanted to get together sometime next week one of the nights I'm working, just you and her." Lester's eyes grew huge. "Something about getting to know my coworkers better."

"You know, I have to wash my hair," Lester replied, backing up, nearly knocking over a stand. Chuck was nodding. "You know, I think I hear Jeff. Coming, Jeff!" Lester fled.

"What was that about?" Casey asked. Chuck didn't answer, and Casey shook his head as if he had a headache or something. "You know what, I don't want to know. What I do want to know is have you talked to her?"

"No, I haven't because I don't know if I should," Chuck admitted. "Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

"Get you two together?" Casey asked, a confused look on his face.

"No," Chuck said, thrusting his hand out toward the stand. "I see the GLG-20 bug, but that's CIA, and hidden pretty poorly." Casey walked over, picked it up and looked at it. "Did I pass your test?"

"Yeah, good job, Bartowski," Casey replied, a little distracted. He looked up at Chuck. "I need to talk to Walker about some mission planning, and you have your own mission." Chuck looked over his shoulder to see that Devon and Morgan were talking. "Go take care of whatever that is." Chuck gave him a look. "Don't worry, Romeo, I have no intentions of trying to make it with your girl."

"Pbbbth," Chuck replied, snorting. "That was the furrrrrrthest thing from my mind."

"Hey, I've already proven the ladies find me attractive."

"You mean the Russian mafia ladies?" Casey growled. "There's the line. It moved. It was further away yesterday. Listen, all seriousness, don't say anything about the NSA thing, okay?"

Casey stood there, and Chuck could see the conflict on his face. "If that's really what you want?" Chuck nodded. "Okay, Bartowski, now go, before the bearded gnome tries to talk to me."

Chuck turned around and headed toward Morgan. "Uh-huh. There's that best buddy of mine." Morgan said, raising his hand for a high five. "Yeah. What's up?" he said in a high pitched voice. "So, I haven't seen Sarah in a while. Have you two...worked out your thing?"

"Our thing?" Chuck asked, confused.

"You know, around Christmas, she was asking me about the hospital thing, and she may have let it slip that...well…" He paused and put his hands on Chuck's shoulders. "Chuck, we're like brothers, and sometimes with all the excitement, sometimes the bull comes out of the chute too fast, and that's okay."

"What in God's name are you talking about?" Chuck asked, his eyes wide.

"Listen, she told me, okay….well, she didn't tell me but I figured it out." Chuck put the pieces together. Sarah was spying, trying to figure out where he had gone, and she made Morgan her target, and Morgan being Morgan...OH GOD! "Listen I told her about the spot behind the ear and maybe she shouldn't be on top."

"MORGAN!" he hissed.

Morgan clapped Chuck on the sides of his arms with his hands. "Buddy, it's okay. Really. She's the only one I told about the ear."

"I'm more concerned about how you think you know!"

Morgan ignored him. "Listen, if you don't want to talk about it, there's something else. I saw an Infinity Ward mailer in the trash."

"I've told you how Big Mike doesn't like you dumpster diving."

"If you would tell me things I wouldn't have to," Morgan countered.

"You're not getting the pre-release demo of the next Call of Duty game." Morgan's face fell. "The last time I lent you a game sampler, it ended up all over the Internet. So this one's gonna stay in my locker, and you can play it when you get some adult supervision."

"Adult super...? Chuck, I'm almost at the age where I should get my prostate checked annually, okay?" Chuck tried not to figure out how Morgan made that jump. "Surely I could be trusted with an advanced copy of the next greatest video game on the planet."

"Do you really believe that?" Chuck asked him. Morgan shook his head. "Have you seen Awesome?"

"I sent him over to the home theater room," Morgan said. "Will you think about it? Remember I helped you with Sarah." Chuck gave him a look, pulled out his phone and shot Sarah a quick text. He found Awesome, who looked to be panicking.

"Devon, buddy, what's wrong?"

"I talked to Sarah," he began.

"Seems to be happening a lot lately," Chuck muttered.

"And she told me I should just come talk to you to… This is one of those rare moments when things are not kosher, Chuck. Oh, man. This is harder than I thought."

"Devon, what did Sarah say to do? Because I find a lot of times, she's right about things." Devon smiled at him, the nerves gone. "What?"

"You two… I'm proud of you, Bro." Chuck felt pride inside. "I know, you hid away for a long time after Jill. But you didn't quit. Maybe you took it at a pace that your sister and I didn't understand, but…" He smiled, straightened, and looked Chuck in the eye. "I've been thinking a lot about the way things are between me and your sister. And you're the man in... in Ellie's family." He pulled a ring out of his pocket and knelt down. "So I was wondering... Can I have your permission... Can I marry Ellie?"

Chuck glanced at the ring, then motioned for Devon to stand up. Chuck pulled him into a hug. "Is that a yes?"

Chuck stepped back and Devon held out the ring like he was offering it to Chuck. "Dude... Yes! Yes! Sorry! I just... You kind of— Uhhh... The knee thing and pulling the ring out like that…" People around them started clapping. Chuck looked around at the people, and saw Morgan snapping a picture. That was going to Sarah, he was sure. "He's marrying my sister, not me." There was confusion on all the faces. Chuck shook his head and turned back to Devon. "Yes, you have my blessing."

"Thank you." Devon said, still holding it toward him. Chuck reached over and gently closed the box. Devon nodded. "Thank you. I mean, it's been in my family for years. This was my great-grandmother's." He laughed and looked at Chuck, a bit of worry on his face. "Ah, you think she'll like it?"

Chuck grinned. "Like it? She'll, she'll love it. I, um, I'm just not sure she'll be able to lift her hand anymore."

"Oh, one other thing. Ellie is a bloodhound when it comes to these kind of things. If I keep this in the apartment, she will smell diamond. Can you hold onto this, just for a day or so, man? I mean, just 'til I figure out how to pop the question?"

"I don't think that's actually a good idea…" Chuck began.

Devon ignored him and pulled him into a hug. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, bro." Devon pulled away and pointed at him. "Hey, pretty soon, I'm going to mean that literally." Devon walked off. Chuck opened the ring box to look at it again, and widened his eyes. He was going to have to hide this in his locker. That should be fine.

...He had a bad feeling.

}o{

Sarah looked down at her phone and saw there was a text from Chuck. _"Is there something I should know that you and Morgan talked about...like my ear?"_

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment. She'd hoped she would never have to tell Chuck about that conversation, but apparently, that wasn't happening. She typed back, " _I don't know what you're talking about"_ and hit send.

" _You're somehow worse at lying in text than you are in person."_ She just smirked at his immediate response, deciding not to even touch that.

Her phone chimed a minute later and this time it was from Morgan. _"Apparently it's not me you have to worry about. Don't worry, I've got your back."_ A picture appeared of what looked like Awesome proposing to Chuck. She rolled her eyes to look at the ceiling. These Bartowskis/Woodcombs were going to be the absolute death of her.

The door opened and there was Casey with one of his looks. The hits just kept on coming. "We have a problem," Casey said. He hesitated a second. "How are you and Bartowski?" Sarah grinned, picked up her phone and showed him the picture. He grunted in amusement. "Appears you were too late."

Sarah ignored him. "What is it, Casey? You look worried." He placed an electronic device on the counter. She picked it up and looked at it. "What is this?"

"No idea, and I...Chuck found it in the Buy More. He thinks I was testing him."

Sarah looked up at him. "Why would he think that?"

"Why does Bartowski think anything he does?" Sarah had to give him that. "We need to call this in…"

"We'll call it in, and figure it out from there," Sarah said, looking Casey in the eye.

"Walker...I got your back, partner." Sarah nodded, and sent the message to her superiors. They got a notification and Sarah punched in a code on the register. The counter opened and a small screen came up. Casey walked over, locked the door, and put the closed sign up. He came back just as the countdown ended.

Beckman appeared sitting, while Graham was standing. Did he always have to stand _over_ her, Sarah wondered? Beckman spoke. "Team, the bug Chuck found is a GLG-20, one of the most advanced counter-espionage listening devices in the CIA arsenal."

"This is a CIA design?" Sarah asked, her mind racing. She thought she was one of the top spies in the CIA, but more and more she was learning exactly how little she knew, and what she did know…

"Figures," Casey muttered where only she could hear him. She knew exactly what he meant. She had been kept in the dark for so long, and she was now getting just enough light to see how in the dark she was. And, it wasn't being kept in the dark for operational security, it was being kept on a need to know basis for control. Sarah didn't like being controlled. In fact, she hated it.

"The GLG-20 is a low-power transmitter," Beckman continued. "In order to avoid detection, it has a maximum range of about twenty yards. Which means there's probably a receiver hidden somewhere inside the Buy More." That sounded just like the bug they put in Chuck's picture.

"We believe it's recently become a favorite of the FULCRUM agents," Graham added.

"So, you're telling us the secret government cabal that abducted Bryce Larkin and came within a hair of figuring out that Chuck's the Intersect is now skulking around the Buy More?" Casey asked, sharing a look with Sarah.

"Our analysts believe between the incident with Bryce at the Buy More and the team you took down at the skating rink, there are multiple FULCRUM agents looking for the three of you. We have deployed other teams to scan the surrounding areas, too, and neutralize the other agents."

"That way if we take out whoever sent those bugs, we don't stand out," Casey concluded. "Nice."

Graham nodded. "We need you to locate that receiver, and find the person who planted it,"

Beckman stared at Casey. "You have 48 hours. If you cannot identify the enemy operative in that time, we will have no choice but to relocate Chuck to a secure government holding facility."

Sarah started to reply, when she swore she saw the tiniest head shake from Beckman.

"Bartowski's time as a civilian may be coming to an end," Graham added. "For their own safety, his family may never see him again." He paused. "It seems your quick mission may finally be coming to an end, Agent Walker." Sarah watched as Beckman reached over and clicked off the feed, her eyes never leaving Casey's.

Sarah spun. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm not 100% sure," Casey admitted. Sarah studied him. He might not be 100% sure, but he obviously had an idea. He turned to her. "Walker, he's not going into a bunker...forever."

"What does that mean?" Sarah asked.

"This may be Beckman's chance to get Chuck away from Graham," Casey admitted.

"And what kind of life is that for Chuck, huh?"

Casey was silent a second and then looked her dead in the eye. "You gonna finish that question, Walker?" She shook her head. "Sarah," he began, and her eyes widened at the use of her first name. "I've got your back." Sarah believed him. Heaven help her, she didn't know why, but she believed him.

}o{

Chuck wasn't even shocked to pull into the Buy More parking lot and find vehicles with emergency lights flashing parked outside. Jeff and Lester had set something on fire, maybe. They were the prime suspects in a money laundering scheme, something to do with a strip club no doubt. It just felt like one of those crazy twists that might happen. After all of these years of thinking they were absolute fucking loser idiots, they were actually absolute fucking criminal loser idiots...maybe a little smarter than he'd thought, but still awful.

But as he got out of his car and stuffed his hands in his pockets to amble over towards his boss, he spotted Jeff and Lester off to the side, Jeff wearing a suspiciously dirty-looking face mask over his nose and mouth and Lester having untucked his shirt and pulled it up to cover half his face.

"Uhhh...Big Mike? What's this?"

"Well, I got good news and bad news for ya, son. Good news is you get a paid day off 'cause hell no I ain't doin' the paperwork to explain this business to the brass. Bad news is there may have been a gas leak, and who knows how long that was goin' on? There are so many suspicious smells in there, I never know whether it's someone's lunch or my lunch or some chemical experiment in the bathroom. Have you noticed how much the men's bathroom smells like meth?" He sent Chuck a look. "Is that just me? I don't know, son. I'm afraid. Say your prayers. I'm too young to die. I watched one of those History Channel specials about World War I and that mustard gas shit killed those guys slowly. I don't want that...I can't—"

"Uh, Big Mike?" he interrupted, spotting people in the building quickly boarding up the windows. They weren't in hazmat suits or anything, just...regular business suits. Which was weird. "I'm sure we're gonna be fine. All right? This sort of thing happens at elementary schools all the time. Heh." He thumped his boss on the back. "Well, I'll see ya later."

"You better be on call the next few days, 'cause you're expected to get your skinny keister back here when this is cleared up, Bartowski!" Big Mike barked after him.

Chuck raised his arm above his head without look back, his thumb up. "Gotcha, Big Mike. Will do. You have a great day, sir!"

The sky was the limit, he thought to himself. And then his phone rang in his pocket. That bad feeling was back then. Almost immediately. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled it out. Casey's growling face looked up at him. He answered it and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Casey. Cool news. No work today. You don't have to leave your robe and fuzzy slippers—"

"Yeah, I know. Come around to the loading zone door by the Herder parking."

Chuck frowned, spinning on his heel and staring back at the Buy More. The inspector dudes had finished boarding everything up, it seemed. And while a few folks were outside setting up a boundary with caution tape, the side alley was completely abandoned.

"Uh, Casey...I don't think I wanna go anywhere near that building right now."

"Moron, do what I say! Get over to the door and get in here."

"In...IN? Are you in there right now? And you want me to go in there, too? Oh, hell no! I'm not getting gassed! I have sensitive lungs, Casey! Just because you've probably built up a tolerance with how many times you've probably been tortured by bad war lord guys…"

"God damn it, if you don't get over here, I'm gonna make one of the guys out there grab you. And trust me, I won't be tellin' 'em to play nice." Casey finished with a growled, "Get. Over. Here."

Chuck's eyes widened and he hastened his step towards the side alley, trying to be inconspicuous as he glanced over his shoulder and fast-walked, phone still to his ear. "Ya know, Casey, you could give Scorpion a run for his money…"

"The hell you talkin' about? Just get to the door."

"Seriously? Mortal Kombat? You didn't— _Get over here_? Really? I mean it was spot…" His voice failed him though as he climbed up onto the loading platform and watched as the door was hefted up for him to duck under. He licked his lips and pulled his shirt up over his face, slowly ducking and scooting inside, only to find a hand clamping down on his collar and yanking him all the way in.

"Hey!"

He was brought face to face with Casey. "We're wasting time."

"Time? Like...we only have a certain amount of time before we all die from asphyxiation?"

"There's no gas leak," Casey grumbled, shaking his head and smirking. "We just needed to get everyone out of the building so that we could look for more bugs and a receiver."

They made their way through the warehouse out towards the main floor of the Buy More and Chuck stopped walking next to Casey, his feet rooted to the floor. "Wait, what? That was a lie? You guys can just fake a gas leak?"

"Yep! Now come on," Casey said, grabbing him by his shoulder and forcing him in front of him, pushing him through onto the sales floor.

"I'm just saying, that's kind of fucked up. Big Mike is out there ready to call his mom and make amends in case there's a mustard gas situation in here and he's gonna die."

"Nah, if it was mustard gas, it could potentially take three or four weeks before the blisters and sores in his lungs and throat would seal his airways, or kill him from a mutated form of pneumonia," Casey replied easily.

Chuck just stared at him for a long time. "You have problems, you know that?"

"You have bigger problems," Casey said with a shrug and that was when Chuck spotted Sarah walking across the floor towards him. The place was swarming with agents, taking pictures of the stacks, going through CDs with fine-tooth combs.

"Hi, Chuck," she said, and he could see she was wearing that mask of hers. She let him see only a small smile of greeting and then it was gone.

"Hey, uh...you all wanna fill me in on what's going on here?"

"We really didn't have a choice, Chuck," she said with a shrug. "Some of your coworkers aren't the brightest crayons in the box, but even they would've been suspicious if a bunch of agents were walking around looking for bugs while the store was open for business."

"Wait, looking for bugs? You…" He squinted at Casey who sent him a small shake of his head. "Wait, that bug I found...That...wasn't…"

"It wasn't one of ours," Casey answered for him. "We've been playin' with EM-50s, kid."

"And the one you found was a GLG-20. That requires a secondary recording device to collect the data." Sarah began to lead him further into the Buy More towards the Nerd Herd desk.

"Wait, what are you talking about? Are you saying what I found… That isn't yours? So whose…?"

Sarah turned on him and brought him to a stop. "Someone is spying on us, Chuck."

"What?"

"Okay, listen carefully. The bug you found was not ours. It belongs to an enemy agent, probably Fulcrum, and they planted it in the Buy More."

A chill went down his spine. "Why?"

"They're looking for the Intersect. They're looking for you." Chuck spun on Casey as he reached into his jacket's inner pocket and pulled a plastic bag full of the same type of device he'd spotted the other day. "We found a total of twenty-nine bugs just like it, but we still haven't found the receiver."

He gaped at Casey for a few moments, then spun back to Sarah. "Uh, I guess...I get why...the extreme measures…" He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands down his shirt. "But now I have to go out there and walk through a freaked out pack of Buy More employees and act like I don't know anything so that's super fun." There was a strange look on Sarah's face, one that made him incredibly uneasy, and she wasn't meeting his eyes which was never a good sign. But he kept talking, all the while studying her. "Good luck dealing with the consequences of making the Burbank Buy More's employees think they've been poisoned with gas, though. Oh wait, that'll be me...dealing with those consequences. So that's fun."

He imagined Lester thinking he could climb walls like Spider-Man...Skip trying to break a keyboard in half with his forehead...Jesus, he needed to make sure they'd all filled out their paperwork with Buy More's HR department or the company would go bankrupt due to ridiculous lawsuits. His head was starting to hurt.

"I better get out there and, uh...Well anyway, good luck with the whole finding the bad guy spy receiver thingy…" He began to back away from them towards the warehouse.

"Chuck, wait," Sarah burst out.

He stopped. "What is it—Oh shit. Shit. Wait. I need to go to the break room and get my sister's ring out of my locker. Not that I don't trust you federal agent types," he drawled, squinting his eyes, "but, uh, that might do better in my pocket or somethin' so…"

"Chuck, before you do that, you should, um…" Sarah shifted her weight.

"What she's tryin' to say, kid, is that the ring is probably not your biggest problem right now," Casey murmured, crossing his arms at his chest. Sarah sent the other agent a look.

"Hey, Casey, can I talk to you for a second? Alone," she half-growled, grabbing the agent by his shoulder and dragging him off. Chuck just blinked after them, confused.

}o{

Sarah had been brainstorming ever since she and Casey signed off with Beckman and Graham after the impromptu briefing in the Wienerlicious last night. She'd barely slept, maybe an hour and a half tops.

That bunker shit smacked of the U.S. intelligence community deciding to take an easier path, selling out, getting lazy, to the detriment of someone who'd sacrificed too much already for this damn country. It was as if Beckman and Graham sat at one of those round decision room tables with their peers and superiors and they all decided to shrug and stop trying. It was a lot easier to just throw "the Intersect" into a heavily guarded bunker dozens of feet underground and leave him there to wither away alone.

It made her want to scream. And here Chuck was, drumming his fingers on the Nerd Herd desk, stressing about his sister's engagement ring. Stressing about the well-being of someone else, not knowing what these assholes were planning to do to him. She wasn't going to let those plans come to fruition.

Maybe this was the perfect time for her to get out like she'd wanted to before. Before Graham sent her here to figure out what Chuck Bartowski's deal was, before he forced her to stay here to continue protecting the guy when they found out what was in his head. She told herself this would be it, her last job for the CIA. Well? Maybe this was going to be the end of all of it.

They'd try to put him away and she'd whisk him off to… God, she'd have to figure that out quick. She needed a plan for where she'd take him. Thanks to her dad, she'd been good at that even before being recruited into the Farm. Now she was even better. It would be an even more bitter pill for Graham to swallow—knowing that he'd trained her to be his best, smartest agent, only for her use those skill sets to escape with the most important person in the world and hide him away from people who would do him harm.

Would needing to live the rest of his life on the run be worse or better than being in a bunker? The insanely robust security he'd have protecting him in the bunker would probably be more effective than one lone AWOL CIA agent. But she also had something extra that they wouldn't have at the bunker—she cared about him, about his safety and his well-being. Enough that she'd betray her country...or whatever. How much did she really care about that these days? Not following orders...was that really betrayal?

She shook her head as she pulled Casey far enough away from Chuck that she figured they were out of earshot. "He can't hear it like that, Casey." She swallowed thickly. "He won't process it. You know how he functions."

"What, you think I'm gonna tell him he's gotta go in a bunker and then laugh in his face?" Sarah shrugged and gave him a pointed look, earning a relenting grunt. "Okay, I deserve that."

"We tell him something like this, we have to do it gently. And you know how smart he is, how quick that brain of his is. He might make a break for it on his own, and how do we protect him then?"

If she was with him when he made a break for it, that was another story. She knew how to disappear. Chuck wouldn't make it out there alone longer than a day, day and a half at the most. He'd be found so fast it'd make his head spin.

These weren't things she was going to be telling Casey. He'd told her to trust him. She did… And yet, with Chuck…? She wasn't sure she could trust anybody, at least not entirely. She had her Plan B, in case Plan A of trusting Casey and General Beckman fell through.

"Well, we can't exactly keep it from him, can we?" Casey asked, lifting an eyebrow, as if asking her if she really thought that'd be the best idea. He was testing her, maybe.

"Of course not." She huffed then, glancing over to see Chuck tilting his head back and staring tiredly at the ceiling. "How do you give a man a life sentence just for being a good guy?"

"This ain't always fair, Walker. But it is what it is. The sacrifice of the one for the good of the many or whatever." He looked over his shoulder at Chuck, too. "Okay, how 'bout you just let me give it a try. I'll break it to him...gentle-like."

She didn't trust him with that, no matter what else she did trust him with. She shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't want to hear your version of it and neither does he. He'll go running for the hills or...it'll just...I dunno, break him. We can't break him on top of everything else he's had to deal with. His sister is gonna be engaged soon, and then married eventually, and he'll have to miss that because of this. It's fucked."

"Look, I get it. Your heart is bleeding at the thought of him in a jumpsuit with a ball and chain on his leg, dragging it around his cell while playing MarioKart day in and day out. Don't sit right with me, either, Walker. Only difference is I don't want to be in that cell with him the way you do. If you catch my dri—"

"Keep your drift to yourself. This has nothing to do with what I want for myse—"

"Agent Walker, Agent Casey. You might want to take a look at this," Agent Phillips interrupted, cutting through them and leading them even further away from Chuck who was now studying the bugs they'd found.

Sarah gestured to him and he quickly put it down, dashing over to join them as they followed Phillips to the screens. "This is a surveillance tape taken during the robbery," Phillips said.

All four cameras were blank. "There's nothing there. Bad guy disabled the security system," Casey said with a shrug.

"Wait," the other agent advised.

Suddenly all four surveillance feed angles sprung to life. Morgan was messing with the security panel for some reason...why in the hell was Morgan in the Buy More at that hour…? The other four feeds showed Big Mike's office and two different angles on the sales floor.

"Hey, that's Morgan! The hell?" Chuck asked, leaning down to get a better view. "Why's he goin' in the security panel…?"

Sarah sighed. "He thought he was turning the cameras off but he just turned them back on again." She heard Casey groan off to the side.

"Hang on, who's that?"

A figure cloaked from head to toe suddenly ducked into the picture in Big Mike's office, crawling up onto his desk. "That's the spy," she said, wondering how these people continued to do incredibly stupid and somehow inadvertently helpful things on a regular basis.

"He's the spy who spies on spies," Chuck murmured. "Why would a Fulcrum agent try to steal Big Mike's fish?" he asked then when it became clear the spy was trying to remove the fish off of the Buy More manager's office wall.

Morgan suddenly appeared in one of the feeds on the sales floor, sneaking backwards, tiptoeing, definitely not looking where he was going...and with the pile of boxes in his path, too.

"Oh, buddy, no. Look ou—Oh God," Chuck breathed as Morgan backed into the pile of boxes and knocked them onto the ground, falling over them.

As Morgan scrambled to his feet again, the spy spun to look, having obviously heard Morgan knock over the boxes out on the sales floor.

"That dill weed seriously interrupted a Fulcrum agent planting bugs. I can't believe it," Casey muttered in awe.

But Sarah was more focused on the spy and the way they'd slipped their hand inside of the fish. "The receiver's in the fish," she announced.

"Marlin, actually," Chuck said, standing up straight again as Casey grunted in agreement. "You would call it a marlin, right?" he asked, pointing to Casey and the older man shrugged with a, "Yeah."

She ignored them. "Look."

Morgan had found Big Mike's office and was inside of it for some reason. Chuck leaned down to watch closely again. "Why's he…? Hold on. Huh…" Morgan was removing the fish, carrying it off camera. "That's...weird. I wonder if he accidentally wandered into Jeff's van and got some fumes of the weird shit that man smokes." He cleared his throat. "But there ya go! See? My job here is done...methinks. So now I'm sure you super-agents can figure out where the maybe high bearded one stashed the fish—marlin," he corrected himself. "Four-foot marlin." He cleared his throat and took a step back, away from the screens. "I'm going to stick around here and grab my sister's ring."

Sarah watched him move away from them and she exchanged a look with Casey. They really had too much bad news to give him. As if one really bad thing wasn't enough.

She followed, feeling Casey's reluctance to join her. But she hurried after the Nerd Herd supervisor anyway. "Hey, Chuck?" He stopped and half-turned towards her, waiting for her to come up beside him, and then he kept moving towards the break room. "Chuck, um, there was no ring in your locker."

He froze mid-step. "What do you mean there was no ring in my locker? I specifically placed the ring in the little box thingy directly inside of my locker for safe-keeping."

"I know. That's what you said. But when we checked all of the lockers, well...um, I took inventory of your locker myself because...well, I didn't…" She told herself to woman up. "I didn't want anyone to find anything that might indicate you're more than...who they think you are." She nibbled on her lip and winced. "There's no ring there, Chuck. At least, there wasn't when I got to it."

"That doesn't make any sense!" he hissed. "What happened to Awesome's great-grandmother's ring?"

"I-I don't know, Chuck. And we can find that out, but we kind of have some bigger-picture concerns right now." She hated having to say it, but it was true.

"What could be possibly be bigger than me ruining the chances of my sister getting married?" he demanded to know, obviously starting to get incredibly frustrated by all of this.

As he pushed his hand through his hair, looking legitimately upset by the missing ring, she knew she had no choice but to drop the proverbial bomb. Shit. "The receiver may contain information indicating that you're the Intersect…" She stopped, not knowing how to do this gently. She couldn't say everything she wanted to say to him with the way she could feel Casey's presence behind her.

Chuck's eyes flicked up over her shoulder and he frowned, before he furrowed his brow at her seriously. "Say it. Say what you're not saying."

Sarah swallowed thickly and darted her eyes off to the side, before slowly lifting them back up to meet his. "If we don't locate the receiver in the next twenty-four hours…"

She paused too long and Casey spoke up behind her. "You'll be stored in an underground bunker for so long you'll forget what fresh air smells like."

* * *

 **A/N** : Next chapter….ISH

Please review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N:** For the record, we never planned for this to happen at Chapter 50, but we're kinda glad it did. *Smirks for good measure*. SC...why are you glaring at me?

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK and we aren't making any money.

* * *

"Was it necessary to say it like that, Casey?" he vaguely heard Sarah snap over her shoulder, but he thought maybe his legs weren't working anymore. Or something, because he was starting to tip backwards and no part of his body was moving to catch his fall.

Suddenly a hand grabbed onto his arm and yanked at him to keep him from falling. "Easy there, kid." There was a pause. Then, "What? I thought that was pretty gentle."

"Hey… Chuck, you okay? Chuck…" Sarah was there, close, looking up into his face. "Chuck, speak to me. I think he's in shock or something," she muttered at Casey who was still holding onto his shirt sleeve.

"N-No, I'm...fine," he breathed, shaking his head. Even though he felt like throwing up. "I'm fine. I'm not...What-What do you mean a-a bunker?"

"That's exactly what we're trying to keep from happening, Chuck. Not just us, but all of these agents and analysts around you right now, everyone in the Buy More," Sarah explained. "We're looking for that receiver to keep you from...that."

She seemed unwilling to say they were going to throw him into a bunker. And for some reason, that suddenly made him angry. "That? What's that, Sarah? You're gonna Lazslo me? Nothing else we can do, I guess, so let's just get 'im out of our hair and lock 'im up in an underground bunker. Cool. That's great."

"Hey! Cool it, Bartowski. We're gonna find that damn fake fish and we're gonna get that receiver."

"Cool it?" He pushed Casey's hand off of his arm and clenched his jaw. "I might spend the rest of my life in a windowless room staring at bare, stone walls and you're telling me to cool it? I will not cool it! This is fucked!"

He was afraid. But anger felt better than abject fear, so he was just going to let himself lash out this time.

"I know it is, Chuck. We both know it's fucked. But we-we won't let it happen." She looked like she was trying to implore him with her eyes.

"Oh, really? And if we can't find Morgan or that fish in time?"

Neither of them said anything, but then Casey grabbed his shoulder again. "Guess we better make sure we find that bearded dumbass and that fish, then, huh? C'mon. Walker, you got things under control here?" he asked and she nodded, keeping her eyes on Chuck's. He didn't miss the reluctance in her face. "Good. Chuck and I are gonna look for Morgan. Let's go, Chuck."

Why was Sarah looking at him like that? As though she had something else to say to him but...wouldn't dare say it? Like she was hiding something from everyone else but wanted him to know...

He forced himself to turn away from her finally and followed Casey through the Buy More, back into the warehouse, and out through the loading dock door.

"Okay, look. I told you we can keep you safe, Bartowski, and I meant it. General Beckman means it." Casey hopped down off of the platform to land next to a Herder. "But if we're gonna do this, you gotta mean it, too."

Chuck stopped with his hand on the edge of the platform, ready to swing himself down to land next to Casey. After a few long moments, he realized what Casey meant, and he nodded in understanding, frowning as he hopped down. "How the hell is that gonna work when I'm in a bunker? What use is there in training a bunker prisoner to be an NSA agent?"

"You aren't gonna be in a bunker, Chuck."

"What? You and Sarah just said—"

"Not if you join with us. You agree to join the NSA and Graham can't touch you. No CIA agent can touch you. Well...except maybe Agent Walker, but that's up to you." Chuck didn't appreciate the way Casey's mouth turned up at the end all smug and whatnot. "You agree to this and you're under our jurisdiction. It takes you out of Graham's hands, and...out of his potential crosshairs."

"Is he the reason I might be going to a bunker? Is that his decision?"

Casey paused. "Yes." He looked uncomfortable saying it out loud, and Chuck wondered if there wasn't a thread of trust in the way the NSA agent had just admitted that out loud to his asset. "I'm pretty sure, at least. Walker had a barely restrained conniption once we signed off, so you can be sure she ain't in line with it. That's why the NSA is offering you this out."

Chuck frowned deeply and stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked towards Casey's SUV. He couldn't help asking, a sinking feeling in his chest. "Casey, is that...the only reason? To keep me out of a bunker?"

There was a long pause. "You need another reason, kid? Stuck underground for the rest of your life, no sunlight, no fresh air, no human contact...or training to be in the best intelligence agency in the world, becoming a real agent. Not to mention a perk I'm sure will sweeten the deal even more for ya…"

"What's that?" Chuck asked, his head in a fog.

"Walker won't be your handler anymore. You won't be her asset. She could tell you from her own experience that inter-dating between agents isn't quite as frowned upon by the brass as asset/handler is."

"See, it's that right there, Casey, that makes people think you're a giant jerk. That. I know you've got a mushy interior full of fluffers and all that nice stuff, but you say shit like that and I get why people think you're a big ol' asshole." Casey growled and narrowed his eyes as Chuck dropped it, everything the NSA agent said settling in his mind. He cleared his throat. "Look, this isn't an easy decision for me, Casey. Okay? This is...a big fuckin' deal."

He felt himself break into a cold sweat.

"It is. Yep. Know what else is a big fuckin' deal? The first time you drink something besides tang and vodka after years of only having tang and vodka to drink because you're in a fuckin' bunker, kid." Casey shrugged, and Chuck could see that in spite of the potential mockery that might exist in his words, the NSA agent was being serious.

And God, the thought of being in a bunker for the rest of his life left him feeling like… Did he even want to live that life if it consisted of nothing else but staring at a wall? "Casey, if I have to go in a bunker, is it gonna be like how Lazslo described it? He'd just sit around playing video games and inventing things for the government, making crazy 007 tools, designing our home theater room with all the spy gadgets. Except, like...the Intersect version." Casey gave him a questioning look. "I imagine some lady who looks like Nurse Ratched coming in with some folders, sitting down across the table from me, and making me look at pictures and files, flashing and flashing and more flashing until my head literally just, like, splits open."

Casey was silent for a while, long enough that they reached his SUV after a solid minute and a half of silence. Chuck swung into the passenger seat and shut the door, just sitting there and staring straight ahead.

"I don't want to be alone when I die." The interior of the car was silent for another long time, and he slowly shook his head. "That's one thing I've always...I've always thought about. You know? I-I think I could probably find some way to survive, to keep from going crazy, even if I did end up in a bunker. If I knew Ellie was happy, with Awesome and married and...you know, if I knew everyone was being taken care of. But I'm terrified of the idea that something could happen to me when I'm all alone in there...a heart attack or a stroke or some sort of...I dunno, some brain aneurysm. I don't wanna be alone when I go. It's scary." He shook his head and ran his hands up and down his pants, taking a deep breath. "I know this isn't safe, what you do. What Sarah does. Bein' a spy. And I know you guys are alone most of the time, but this has felt different, you know? This has felt like a team. The three of us."

Casey started the car and pulled out of the parking space, guiding them towards the exit and finally onto the street. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It'd be even more of a team if you joined up."

Chuck swallowed hard. "And if something happened, on a mission or whatever, if something happened to one of us, we wouldn't be alone."

"I guess not," Casey said with a shrug.

"What's gonna happen? I-I mean…" Chuck swallowed and pushed a hand through his hair. "If I join, what happens with my family, with my friends? Where am I gonna go? Where's this training gonna be? Do I—Do I go to some kind of boot camp? A school or something?"

Casey shook his head. "You're a special case, Bartowski. What with the Intersect an' all, we need to keep you under close eye. And it's important no one in your family knows anything has changed, that things are different."

"Right," he muttered softly. "Right, that makes sense. This is so crazy. Why-Why is Beckman doing this? Why is she okay with this? Me...joining the NSA? I mean, for all I know she thinks I'm a complete loser."

"She doesn't think that, kid." Casey glanced at him, then shrugged with a grunt. "Maybe she doesn't trust Graham's intentions, coupled with the fact that it don't sit right with her that someone who's done what you've done for his country might be tossed under a bus like this when you shouldn't be. And maybe after everything, you deserve a paycheck for it, too."

"A paycheck, huh? Is it a lot?"

Casey smirked. "Livable. But you don't seem the type to care much either way."

"Nah, I don't," Chuck confirmed, smiling a little. He was breathless, terrified even. But the choice wasn't all that hard, was it? A bunker or being trained as a secret agent for the NSA? But it was still so frightening, so… Well, it was a huge change. A massive change. And he didn't know if he even could do this. Was he ready to do this? Would he fail everyone? Embarrass himself? Cause Casey and Beckman shame? ...Cause Sarah shame? He was spiraling and it was nearing out of control levels.

"Look, kid. You think about it. But this is the best way for us to keep you outta Graham's claws, and...maybe it's high time we see what you got. You've got the brain power…"

"Right, the Intersect."

Casey scoffed. "Not just the Intersect. _Your brain_ , the one you were born with. We just need to get meat on those bones, some muscle. And for God's sake, you need to know how to defend yourself."

"Will you guys stop telling me to stay in the car?"

"Probably not."

"Damn."

"But when you don't listen to us and get out to follow and play the hero, you'll actually have some tools to use besides just screeching like a toddler."

Chuck gave him a flat look. And then he sighed and tugged at his shirt, feeling how much he was sweating underneath. "We're doing this, aren't we?"

"Yeah. We are. And I'm gonna make sure we do it right." Chuck nodded at that. "But you gotta make sure we do it right, too, kid, and that means you actually tell Walker about this. She needs to know. She's in the dark and I don't like keepin' my partner in the dark. You shouldn't, either."

"She doesn't know you're offering me this chance to join the NSA? Not at all?"

Casey shook his head. "You told me not to mention it, kid. This is _your_ big move. You control the narrative. So to speak. I'm not tellin' your mommy your business, that's on you."

"Cool. Okay. But also never call Sarah my 'mommy' ever again, even as a metaphor. Thanks."

Casey smirked. But Chuck was too lost in his thoughts to notice.

Tell Sarah? There were so many reasons why he needed to tell her, why he needed to be up front.

And he wanted her to know why he was going to do this. He wanted her to know that she was part of the reason. Maybe she was actually a large part of the reason. Yes, he wanted to help people and stop bad guys, but the thought of getting to do it at Sarah's side currently felt more important than anything else.

This might be his chance to look her in the eye and they'd know how one another felt.

He'd be in the NSA, not an asset. He'd be an agent, just like her. And if he worked hard enough, he'd be allowed to work alongside her instead of crouching behind boxes while she took all the fire.

She—and maybe Casey to a lesser degree—had shown him what it meant to be a spy.

At least, he had a good idea of what being a spy meant to her.

She'd had the chance to walk away from him multiple times now. She could've left him behind by now, letting him just deal with the consequences of whatever had happened on a mission or with his sister or his best friend all alone. But every single time, she chose not to do that. And in fact, she chose to go above and beyond what her role as his handler consisted of. It was her job to keep him alive, but she didn't stop there. She never forced him to handle the hardest bits by himself, or to have his panic attacks alone, suffer alone. She went out of her way to leave her door open to him. She stayed with him. She let him talk, even though one of the first things he learned about her was that she wasn't a talker at all. He could see how uncomfortable it made her, how raw and vulnerable she felt if she ever let _him_ in, in even the smallest ways. And she did it. Because she wasn't just a good handler, she was a good _person_.

Maybe that was what being a spy would be for him. He'd infuse the job with his own life motto, his own moral compass.

But this was bigger than him. He was choosing something bigger than him, the way Casey had, and the way Sarah had.

General Beckman—someone he'd thought hated his guts, looked down on him, thought he was useless, a loser, a _mistake_ —was taking a huge chance on him. And whether she really thought he was worthy, or if she was doing this because she was also a good person and couldn't justify letting him be tossed in a bunker after everything he'd done, she was giving him a choice. He didn't think he'd mind working for someone like her.

"So-So would you be, like, my...mentor? Will you be my mentor?" he rephrased. Since I'm...holy fuckshitfuck...I'm doing this. I'm really doing this." He let out a breath in disbelief and pushed both of his hands through his hair.

"Sorta. I guess. The most important thing is that you actually listen to me this time, and do what I tell you."

"Right, right. Of course. Yes. Sensei."

"First thing. Don't fuckin' call me that."

Chuck cleared his throat. "Right. Uh, noted."

"Let's start now." Chuck looked over at him. "Think of it as a trial run." Chuck nodded. "We need to find the marlin and that receiver."

"See, I knew it was a marlin." Casey glared at him. "Right, I have an idea where to start. Let's go to your place." Casey gave him a look, nodded, and hit the gas.

}o{

"Agent Walker, every last inch, nook, and cranny has been inspected. We think we've found all of the devices."

She turned from where she'd been staring thoughtfully off to the side, forcing her mind blank for just a moment of some damn peace, a sort of meditation tactic she'd learned early on in her career as an agent. "Thank you, Agent Farrell. Make sure everything is put back the way it belongs, as if we were never here. Oversee the rest of this operation and contact Director Graham about your findings when you're finished."

The other agent nodded and walked away. She checked her watch. She had almost half an hour before her shift at the Wienerlicious started and she needed to get some things done first.

She couldn't be here while she did that.

But before she could get started, her phone rang. Frowning in curiosity, she pulled it out of her pocket. It was an encrypted number, which made the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she answered it and brought it up to her ear. "Hello?" she asked, careful not to do her usual 'Walker, secure' routine she typically did.

"Agent Walker, I need an update on the scene at the Buy More."

It was General Beckman. But why was she using an encrypted number?

"Oh. General, y-yes. Um, of course. We found a total of twenty-nine bugs. The receiver…" She paused. She didn't want her superiors to know the receiver was currently still lost, and not even in the Buy More. And she must have paused too long because the general picked up on it.

"What is it, Agent Walker? Did something happen to the receiver?"

Damn, she was good.

"No, General Beckman. At least, I don't think so. It should be easy enough to pinpoint its location."

"It isn't in the Buy More, is it?"

Sarah silently cursed, clenching her jaw. "No, ma'am. It is not. But we've got some good agents who are on its trail as we speak."

"That isn't good enough, Agent Walker. The information on that receiver is incredibly dangerous. There is evidence of the Intersect's existence, highly secretive information the president of the United States doesn't even have. Whoever has access to that receiver will be privy to information that only Director Graham, myself, you, and Major Casey have access to. And Mr. Bartowski's identity is in grave danger. We need to get him to safety immediately."

"I-I agree, General Beckman. Without the receiver in our possession, Chuck's in grave danger, but—"

"But what, Agent Walker?"

"I believe Agent Casey and I are more than capable of keeping him safe. We'll have the location of the receiver soon enough and in the meantime—"

"No."

Sarah felt her blood run cold. "No?"

"Agent Walker, we think it might be time to extract Chuck."

Shit. No. Sarah froze mid step, a horrible feeling rocketing through her chest. "What?"

"There's a chance his identity has been compromised. We have to err on the side of caution."

"We don't actually know that he's in danger yet, General. You would take an innocent man and pull him away from his family, his life, everything he knows, to toss him in a bunker because—because we're erring on the side of caution?"

"To be blunt, Agent Walker…yes."

"This isn't sitting your top scorer on the bench the last few minutes of a semi-final so they don't end up injured for the final, ma'am. This is a man's life. This is about a human being's entire existence being...flipped on its head in the worst possible way. Simply because someone _might_ hear his name on a receiver… And that isn't even to say they'd know what it even meant if they did hear his name." There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. Sarah didn't know what to make of that pause. Sarah continued. "You promised us we had forty-eight hours."

"You've made clear you aren't on board with Chuck being extracted, Agent Walker. That is noted. Director Graham has already put the order out for the asset to be found and brought back in where he'll be under twenty-four hour protective surveillance."

Sarah shut her eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know where he is."

"He'll be easy enough to find. In the meantime, make sure we get that receiver."

Sarah pulled the phone away and hit end, just barely resisting the urge to slam it into the tile floor and stomp on it. There was a nearby standee of some Buy More employee who was modeling detergent. She calmly walked over to it, picked it up, and cracked it over her knee, snapping it in half.

She left the pieces on the ground and walked to the back, leaving a few agents gaping after her.

The CIA agent figured she still had some time. Chuck was with Casey at the moment, and Casey wasn't the type to roll over to follow an order if he didn't agree with it. She thought—she hoped—they were on the same page about Chuck not going into a bunker. Either way, his being there to protect Chuck while they searched for the marlin gave her some breathing room.

And that meant she could start to enact her plan.

She grabbed her bag out of the trunk of her Porsche, unzipping it and looking inside to make sure her Wienerlicious outfit was still there, and then she zipped it back up again, slammed the trunk shut, and walked to the employee entrance on the side of the building.

Her car was fast enough. Mexico was the best direction logically, and that was why Graham and Beckman would send agents to the border first thing to intercept the fugitive CIA agent and her asset. Driving north had less options as far as freeways. But if they went east, the possibilities were endless. Towards Utah, or towards Arizona? Somewhere in between? Could they get lost in the mountains of Colorado? She and Bryce had a mission in a town outside of Boulder once, and it had been a beautiful place—as much of it as she'd gotten to see around the actual job she'd had to do while she was there.

Once they hit one of the five billion national forests in Colorado, they could dye their hair, buy new clothes, and she could easily put together new identities. It could buy them some time until the threat of the receiver and Fulcrum was properly diminished.

This was supposed to be her last mission, wasn't it? And this would ensure it was her last mission. Once she knew it was safe to bring Chuck back, she'd either be arrested, or she'd be kicked out of the CIA. Most likely both.

And that was okay. Wasn't it? ...Shit. It had to be.

She pushed her way into the Wienerlicious break room and ducked into the bathroom to change. For now, she had to play like nothing was changed. Like she wasn't planning to kidnap a government asset, the carrier of the Intersect, the most important mind in the world at the moment, and take him into the mountains of Colorado to keep him out of a bunker.

She had to play like her insides weren't at risk of falling apart altogether.

There was no way she could let this happen to him. If she did, it would be the end of everything. Not just for him, but for everyone whose lives he touched. That included hers, but she was the least of her worries. Ellie, Awesome, Morgan… God, even the Buy More would just...fall apart, wouldn't it? The world needed Chuck Bartowski in it. It needed his light, his mind...his kindness. The faith he had in people, in everything. The last thing this crap world needed was for someone like him to be locked up in a God damn cave somewhere, cameras pointed at him at every moment of every day, his entire existence dwindled down to the Intersect and what he could do with it.

Fuck, she was scared. But she was determined, too. He wasn't ending up in a damn bunker. Over her dead body.

}o{

"Have you got facial technology on your computer?" Chuck asked, entering Casey's apartment. He gave a grunt. "Right, stupid question. So there's twenty-nine bugs, and that tells me they weren't all planted in one day." He began to type as he talked. "So, I can run the Buy More employees into the program to eliminate them, and then I have the program analyze the footage looking for someone who was in the Buy More on multiple days."

"What footage, moron?"

Chuck turned to him grinning. "Isn't that agent-in-training moron?" Casey glared at him. "So I've been thinking."

"Oh, God," Casey replied, looking up at the ceiling.

"Stop, just for a second, stop and hear me out." Casey nodded for him to go on. "I don't want to tell Sarah until we're sure this works." Casey's brow furrowed. "She's...she's Sarah, you know? If this doesn't work out...I don't want to start something that may get shut down, or, you know, if I fail as an agent."

"What's that gotta do with Walker?"

Chuck gave him a look. "Failure is bad enough. Failure in front of…" He huffed, not sure he knew how to finish that.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Kid, it's Walker. Anyway, I don't let my mentees fail."

"How many mentees have you had?" Casey looked like he hadn't expected the question. "Yeah. Uh huh. I thought so. Look, please, Casey. Please just for a little while, keep it under your hat. Please."

Casey looked at him for a minute, took a deep breath, and placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder. Chuck's eyes widened. "I guess I get it. I don't like it. I doesn't sit right with me and I think you owe it to her to tell her...but I get it. You aren't going to fail, Bartowski. You join the NSA, you start your training, and you and Walker...start...something," a pain look came over his face then, "God, this sucks." He shivered. "You and Walker start something… Well, kid, I hate to do this to ya, but you've failed more than a couple times since I was forced onto this mission, and she's still here."

Chuck glowered at him. "This would be a little bit bigger of a fail than the time we came back at three in the morning and I accidentally fell into the fountain I was so exhausted and wasn't looking where I was going."

The NSA agent full-on laughed, snorting. "Thanks for bringing that image back to me, moron. I'd almost forgotten. But yeah, if you think a big fail would scare 'er off… Well, obviously you haven't been payin' any attention. When Walker wants something, she gets it." He made a disgusted grunt then, shivering for the second time.

"That was a lot of lady feelings." The hand on Chuck's shoulder tightened and he grimaced. "Ah! Ah ah ah! Hurting the agent-in-training."

Casey removed his hand and Chuck turned back around to the screen. "It's simple really. The Buy More company policy is to keep security footage for ninety days. I'll hack in, get the footage, load it onto the facial recognition system, highlight the Buy More employees to be ignored, and we'll find your agent."

"How long will all that take?" Casey asked, with what Chuck swore was a bit of respect in his voice.

"It's done," Chuck said, glancing at him over his shoulder. "The computer has to do its thing now." He shrugged. "Don't know how long that will take, but the hard work's done."

Casey narrowed his eyes. Chuck swore he was trying to trip him up now. "What about the bearded gnome?"

Chuck grinned at him. "Sarah has taught me many things," he began. Casey had an amused smile on his face as Chuck narrowed his eyes at him. "One of the things is that if you can get someone else to do your work for you, do it." He pulled up his phone. "Watch this."

Casey leaned over his shoulder as he typed, _"Hey, Morgs, I've got a huge problem. Awesome needs the ring for Ellie and he's really upset. I feel like I've let him down."_ Chuck hit send.

"You really don't think—" Casey began but Morgan's reply came back almost immediately.

 _"I might be able to help, but you can't get mad."_

"I'll be damned," Casey grunted.

Chuck typed back. _"Buddy, why would I get mad if you helped me?"_

"Surely he won't—" Casey began but stopped again when Chuck's phone binged.

 _"It's in the Wienerlicious, in Big Mike's marlin."_

"How the hell did he get it into the Wie—?" Casey began, but Chuck's phone binged again.

 _"Told Scooter I'd let him play the new Call of Duty if he helped me hide it in the freezer."_

Chuck looked up at Casey. "Know your target. I know my target." Casey nodded. "I'll go get the ring and receiver. Bring it back here, or keep it with Sarah until this finishes running?" He nodded toward the computer. Casey had a speculative look on his face. "Agent-in-training, remember?"

"Go, before I change my damn mind," Casey grunted.

Chuck ran off. He had to get the receiver and the ring, and then...then there was a chance. A real chance. He wasn't sure he had ever been more hopeful.

}o{

Chuck walked into the Wienerlicious and froze. There, on the floor, broken, was the Marlin.

"No," he whispered.

They had to get the ring back, and the receiver. Chuck wasn't sure he would be allowed to stay in Burbank, NSA agent or not, if his identity was compromised. He started checking the remaining parts in case the ring and receiver were left behind by the vandal when he heard a distant call for help. He stood and ran toward the back, spotting Sarah trapped behind the fogged window of the freezer.

"Sarah?"

"Chuck, Lizzie's the mole!" she yelled through the glass. "She got the receiver!"

"It's over," he said softly. All of it was over. They would have his identity. Joining the NSA, his pipedream of working alongside Sarah as an agent. Or at least, that was what he'd have to make her think now. He couldn't tell her the truth just yet. And part of him hated himself for doing this, really hated himself. "They're gonna stick me in some tiny cell with no windows."

"Okay, Chuck, I need you to focus." He looked up at her. He needed to tell her. "We can stop Lizzie if you get me out of here," she continued.

"How? You're in the freezer, which is a special kind of hell for you because I know how much you don't like being cold."

"I keep a backup piece in the jar of horseradish sauce," Sarah explained.

"Horseradish?" He furrowed his brow, trying to understand that logic...that spy logic, also… "Who puts horseradish on hot dogs?"

"Chuck!" she snapped. His eyes widened. Sarah was cold. Screw him going to the bunker, she hated being cold.

"Got it. Right." It hit him as he rushed to find the horseradish. "Oooh, hide it someplace nobody would look—Good. Great. Okay." He opened the lid, and dumped it on the ground. He picked up the gun. "Oh! Whoa. I got it. Okay."

"Okay," Sarah began, "now shoot the lock."

Shoot the lock, right...wait… That was a very un-Chuck-like move. He had to be more…him.

"Um, look, Sarah, I've never really fired a gun before, okay?" He needed to spiral. He gulped, hoping it added to the cover he was trying to play. "And I've actually done this on purpose to avoid any unpleasant side effects like shooting myself or others."

Sarah stared at him threateningly, frightening him even though there was a lock door between them. "Just shoot the lock or I will shoot _you_ when I get out of here!"

He knew she cared for him, but she really hated being cold. "Okay. Get back. Ready? Ready? Get back. One... Two…" He pulled the trigger and it clicked.

Her face appeared in the window again. "Take the safety off first," she nearly begged. She had to be so cold.

"One, one sec…" he said as he hit the button and watched the clip drop out of the gun. "Just a little problem." Chuck dropped down to grab the clip.

"Bartowski! I knew I'd find you here," Chuck heard behind him. Chuck turned and one of the earlier agents from inside the Buy More had a gun pointed at him. "Drop the gun, Bartowski! Now!"

Chuck dropped the gun. "No, no, no, no need to shoot. It's not my gun, it's not my gun." The agent bent down to get the gun. He almost told him about Sarah, that his cover girlfriend was in the freezer, but if he had a gun pulled on him, that meant he had to be FULCRUM. Chuck kept his mouth shut.

"Okay, let's go," the agent said, moving him out the door. "Come on, move."

"Okay, okay," Chuck said. He walked slowly out, trying to raise his voice so Sarah could hear. "You're taking this thing a little seriously. What kind of agent are you...FULCRUM?"

The agent never said a word. He walked Chuck outside and loaded him into the car before taking off.

Chuck sat quietly in the back and watched as the agent make a phone call. "I have the package, HQ, this is Longshore."

The flash started at the name. Chuck watched as Longshore's entire file filled his mind. Longshore was an extraction specialist. He always got his mark. Always.

"Well, you're not FULCRUM."

Longshore was silent for a moment, but he glanced in the rearview mirror and Chuck knew. Chuck knew Sarah and Casey would take care of Lizzie. If he didn't report in after a certain amount of time, Casey would try and contact him and Sarah. For now, he had to do what Freaked Out Chuck would do. Not that it would be hard, because he was freaked out. He had to trust Sarah and Casey in a way that made him…uncomfortable. The only people who didn't abandon him were family...and not necessarily blood family, but...family. He thought Sarah was part of that, but did she? He couldn't hold it against her if she didn't because he wasn't sure if she had ever experienced anything like his family. "So... this is it, huh? Going to get my own padded cell. Do I get a bed, or is my whole room kind of like a bed?"

Longshore looked uncomfortable for just a split second. "It's not as bad as it sounds. The underground complex where you will be living has state-of-the-art security and amenities. You'll even be allowed outside to visit controlled locations."

Chuck knew that body language. He had seen it a hundred times when Sarah was trying to hide something from him, when her mask slid up into place. It was as bad as it sounded, and Chuck knew his only hope came down to Sarah and Casey. That freaked him out. And then something struck him hard, right between the eyes. "Hold on. I-I... I can't leave without telling Ellie something, a reason for going. What should I say?"

He saw the mask slide on even tighter this time. Longshore knew he was never seeing sunlight again. This guy was CIA, which meant this had been Graham's order. Longshore finally spoke up. "Nothing. It's safer for them if you just... disappear."

Chuck sat back. He had to trust Casey and Sarah. At worst, Sarah would tell Ellie something that would protect all of them. God, he was going to miss his family.

}o{

Sarah was close to hypothermia when she finally heard a noise come from the front. "Help!" she yelled, hitting her ice cold fist against the door as best she could. Casey came around the corner, gun drawn. His eyes widened.

"Sarah! Stand back!" he barked. She jumped back and heard the report of the gun. She moved quickly, opening the door.

She walked out, fire running through her veins, warming her. It was time to kick someone's ass. "The delivery girl is the mole. And an agent took Chuck."

"Lizzie," Casey said, making Sarah turn to him. "Chuck figured it out," he said with a shrug. They were going to talk later. Something weird had been going on for a while now, and it felt like she was being left out. She punched a few buttons and Beckman and Graham rushed to get in place behind Beckman's desk.

"We've identified the enemy agent," Sarah said, taking charge. Casey stepped back. This was personal, and he had to know it. "She was posing as a Pita Parlor delivery girl. Code name Lizzie."

"So she escaped with the receiver?" Graham said. Sarah swore there was glee in his voice and something on Beckman's face flickered.

"Yes, but she made a phone call," Sarah informed them as calmly as she could. Her emotions were in turmoil. They were not taking Chuck. It was not up for discussion. "We're currently tracing the cell signature, and we can triangulate her location. We just need more time."

"As soon as you locate her, take her out," Graham replied.

"Uh, one of us needs to go and get Chuck away from a FULCRUM agent that was posing as part of the clean-up team at the Buy More."

"The Intersect is no longer your concern, Agent Walker," Graham explained. There was no doubt about the condescension in his voice.

"I... I don't understand," Sarah blurted out. What was going on? What were they doing? This was what she and Casey did. This was what the team did. It was the whole point of this operation.

"Agent Longshore is CIA," Graham replied with a barely restrained smirk. She heard Casey suck in his breath. They both knew Longshore was known as an extraction specialist. When someone had to get pulled out, he was the person that was sent. "Chuck is on his way to the extraction point right now." Sarah fought herself not to glare at Graham and for a second she swore she saw sympathy in Beckman's eyes. And then Sarah saw the NSA general and Casey lock eyes, and Beckman gave the tiniest of head nods. "Is there a problem?"

"Uh, no," Sarah replied, her head spinning. "No. I just thought I would handle his transfer."

"Forget about Chuck, Agent Walker. Focus on catching that FULCRUM agent," Graham ordered.

"We're on it," Casey said. The connection was terminated. "'We' meaning I go get Lizzie while you find Chuck." Sarah turned to him, confused beyond belief. "Walker, I don't have time to explain everything. Go, before I have to do all of it myself."

Sarah took off as fast as she could. She had to save Chuck. This wasn't for the CIA, or the NSA, or her. Even _she_ didn't believe that last part.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N:** Oh hey. This chapter is a *big one* so strap in. Thanks to those of you who've followed us this far. This is THAT moment David keeps rattling on about with his ISH business.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own CHUCK and we aren't making any money.

* * *

Sarah had never before in her life been so grateful towards an inanimate object as she was towards the watch Chuck was wearing on his wrist, along with the tracking device they'd imbedded inside of it for his safety.

It was easy to find him, and even easier to follow him and Longshore up onto the roof. The extraction point.

She'd forced herself not to dwell too hard on the fact that this was it. This was the moment she'd throw in the towel, so to speak. She'd made the decision almost at the beginning of this whole operation, hadn't she? To protect Chuck even if it meant forsaking everything the CIA taught her to be, even if it meant leaving the CIA behind altogether.

And now she was going to be pitting herself against a man who was known for extracting people. This was what he excelled at. He wouldn't excel at it tonight.

Tonight, she and Chuck were leaving Los Angeles. She would be the only thing standing between him and a potentially long stint in a bunker, without his family, without his friends.

But she had to get there in time.

Sarah sprinted as fast as she could out of the door to the roof, skidding to a halt and grabbing the railing as she burst out into the cold night air, the wind whipping at her hair as she took the stairs two at a time up to the roof.

"LONGSHORE!"

The agent's hand went directly for his gun as he spun to face her, but he eased up a bit as he realized it was her. The asset's handler. She took a few long, settling breaths as she moved across the roof towards them. "Is there a problem, Agent Walker?" he asked, his hand still hovering at his holster. Asshole.

She knew he was just doing his job but still… The fact that he felt the need to keep his hand near his gun pissed her off. And she felt a rush of anger. These people were supposed to be protecting Chuck, the way she was protecting him. After everything he'd done to help them, they should've all been doing everything they could to make his life not complete and utter shit, and instead, at the slightest threat, they were throwing him underground. Because it was easier for them. Maybe keeping him out here, letting him continue living his life as best he could, was just too much work for the intelligence agency leadership. Maybe he cost them too much money. Too much manpower. They needed her and Casey on other missions.

Sarah knew she was letting herself run away with the bitter thoughts, but she was bitter. And every second she had to stand here watching on his face the mixture of relief at her arrival and terror that he was in this situation in the first place, she was becoming even more bitter.

"Sarah. Sarah, thank God you're here," Chuck breathed, and he lifted his hands to hold them up by his shoulders. As an agent, she typically swept her eyes around her surroundings every time she entered a room or walked into a new situation. And yet, it took her until that moment to notice he was in handcuffs. Like a fucking criminal. As if he'd done something wrong. "I don't-I don't wanna go yet, Sarah. I can't," Chuck rushed out, his voice shaking.

She wanted to ask why he was in handcuffs. She highly doubted Chuck had tried to attack the agent, even if he was taking him away from his life as he knew it. So why in the hell had Longshore done that? She was enraged by it, perhaps overly so. She felt it coursing through her veins, unbridled.

Instead of attacking the man who'd done it, she reeled herself in a bit and shook her head at Chuck, the slightest of head shakes. She needed him to be calmer, but she couldn't blame him if it didn't work out that way.

"Agent Casey has found the Fulcrum mole, Longshore. He found her. It's all over, so we can hold off on transferring Chuck to a holding facility."

Longshore looked confused, and then he narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Lowering his hands to his sides, he said, "If there was a change in the operation, I would've been contacted. I have my orders."

Damn it. "Your orders have changed," she said without blinking an eye. "That's why I'm here." She was careful not to flick her gaze to Chuck in any way, knowing Longshore was smart, that he'd see she was bluffing.

"You are not my contact, Agent Walker. I got my orders from way above your pay grade."

"Look, this isn't about your orders, Longshore. This isn't necessary. We don't have to do this. It's a judgment call. I'll personally hold Chuck here until we know for sure. Until we get word from Casey that he's taken the Fulcrum mole into custody. I'll stay with him. And-And if we have to extract him, so be it. But we owe it to him…" This time she did meet Chuck's eyes. "We owe it to him to give him a chance."

"His cover is blown, Walker!" Longshore said in a strong voice. "He's gone!" He then reached out and clamped his hand down around Chuck's wrist, starting to yank him back.

"No!" she snapped. "I take full responsibility, okay? I'm responsible. I've been lead on his protection for months now. I can handle this."

"It isn't about whether or not you can handle it, Walker. When I'm given a job, I finish it. I don't know what this guy's deal is, but Director Graham told me under no circumstances to let anyone near 'im. To make sure he gets on the chopper and to the extraction point in one piece."

"I'm not just _anyone_ , Longshore. Chuck is my asset. He's my guy." She felt a lump in her throat, hearing the desperation at the end there. She doubted Agent Longshore was moved by desperation, by tears, begging even. But she needed to try, to buy them some time. She didn't want to hurt him when he was just doing his job—a job Graham had given him on purpose it seemed, with express orders not to let anyone near Chuck. Casey, she wondered? Had he meant Casey? Or...was it her, too? Longshore wouldn't be able to read between the lines there. He wasn't read into this operation, the Intersect. He had no idea who Chuck even was. He was just following orders.

But she'd do what she needed to do. And she felt the cool steel of her S&W pressed against the small of her back.

"Please," she tried. "Just give us more time. Please! Longshore, you don't-you don't know what he's done for his country. He deserves better than this. If-If you knew, you'd wait. Trust me."

The agent didn't seem fazed by her appeal to his patriotism, his empathy. It figured. He had a reputation that was just as icy cold as hers.

She looked at Chuck again. He was staring at her, pleading with his eyes. As if he was willing her to save him from this. And yet he wasn't fully freaking out, almost like he'd...seen this coming. Had he been waiting for this day, preparing himself for it? She needed to do everything she could here. She tried to convey that she was here for him with a look of her own.

"Longshore, he's saved lives. You couldn't possibly even begin to know how many lives. Give us time. Give _him_ time."

"I'd appreciate it," Chuck half-squeaked, spinning to look at the agent beside him. "I really would. Not-Not that I'm any more of a hero than any other person with a badge, but I just...I don't wanna live like that if-if I don't have to. But if I do, I'll-I'll go, okay? I won't struggle. I haven't struggled through any of this. I've-I've made it really easy, Longshore. Right? A bit of time. Please." And he raised his shackled hands up. She hated that metal around his wrists more than anything she'd ever hated before.

The agent turned to give her a tired look then.

"Please don't do this to him without even giving him a chance." She subtly snuck her right hand behind her then, slipping her fingers over the stock, ready to use it if she had to. Chuck might be traumatized to watch the man standing next to him go down in a red mist, and maybe he'd be afraid of her for the rest of his life...but he wouldn't be in a bunker. And eventually she'd find a way to get him back to his life again.

"Okay." Longshore shook his head as if he was already regretting giving in. "You got one minute. That's it. Just one."

She had a slight reprieve. There were things she had to say to him, to reassure him. He wasn't getting on a fucking chopper or ending up in a fucking bunker. But she needed to get Longshore to a point where he would let Chuck go. Or...she needed to find a way to...well, get him _out_ of the way.

Sarah took her hand off of her gun and carefully slid up closer to Chuck as Longshore let his arm go and stepped back, away from Chuck to give them a bit of privacy. She angled her body away from him so that he couldn't see the gun she'd stored in the back of her pants, and then she turned to face Chuck fully, searching his face.

"I'm not ready, Sarah. I'm not ready to disappear."

"No, I know, I know," she said softly, nodding. She wasn't ready for him to disappear, either.

"I-I need you to talk to Ellie." His eyes darted to the side and then back at her, and he seemed to be making a genuine effort not to freak out, to be calm, to be...everything that he always was. "And to Morgan, and my friends." How could she tell him she was getting him out of this? All she could do was look into his eyes, try to reassure him. She didn't want to give Longshore any reason not to trust her until they came to the moment when she had to act. "And-And tell 'em...Tell 'em…" He swallowed hard and looked away for a moment, before looking back at her. "I dunno, Sarah. You think you're not good at saying the right things, but you are. You-You don't say a whole lot, at least not compared to me," a small crooked breathless smile accompanied that but she didn't have it in her to smile back, feeling the tears start to form, damn it. "You don't say a lot, but when you do say stuff, it's...More often than not, it's exactly the right thing. So-So maybe you can think of somethin' to say to 'em. Like, like if I'm supposed to be dead? Tell 'em something that'll make it okay, that'll make 'em feel all right."

She nodded, her eyes welling up. What could she say or do? All she could do was listen. Until she had an opening to make her move, she just had to listen to him.

"Just...make sure they know how much I love 'em." He looked right into her eyes and paused for a long time, and then his gaze flicked up over her shoulder, almost like he was waiting for something, for someone else to show up. As if he hadn't quite given up hope just yet and that was why, wasn't it? That was why every last fiber of her being ached to fight for him. It was why she yearned to be everything he seemed to think she was. "You can do that, right?" She nodded a little, feeling his hands slowly move to take hers. They were somehow warm, and they weren't as clammy as they usually were when he was terrified. They were just...comforting, his fingers sliding over hers, squeezing. She squeezed back, trying in vain to convey something, anything, that would let him know she was here to rescue him, not to say goodbye.

He was spending this last bit of time outside, before being whisked off to a bunker forever for all he knew, making sure his people would be okay, that they wouldn't suffer with him gone. And she felt like her insides were dying.

"Of course ya can," he said gently, leaning in just enough to make her knees shudder. "You're Sarah. You can do anything."

She finally smiled up at him, sniffing, resisting the urge to blink at the tears because that would mean looking away, and she didn't want to do that, not even for a split second.

"And-And hey, there's—there's a silver lining to this, you know?" he said with a wet chuckle, and she could see the tears starting in his eyes, as if the reality of his situation was finally settling in, the fear really kicking in. And still he stood here, being so purely...Chuck. "Because...because we're not workin' together anymore. You-You won't… You won't be my handler, Sarah. And I'm not...I'm not gonna be your asset." He had a look on his face, then, one she didn't expect. There was still fear but there was something else. A spark of...determination. "We can go on a date. If this all...goes according to plan. Which, right now...it looks...I dunno. Just...You can—You can come by my cell maybe? And we can hang out. And you can tell me who the president is." He wanted her to smile, maybe even needed her to smile. She felt it, so she let out a breathy huff of amusement, grinning as much as she was capable of.

She subtly glanced at Longshore as she purposely ducked her head shyly. The moment was coming. She could feel the nerves in her body starting to awaken, the adrenaline rearing its head.

"And maybe…" He held onto her tighter and she felt his thumbs stroke over the backs of her hands, so tenderly that the tears threatened to fall. And then they did fall. "Maybe we can...say how we really…" He swallowed thickly and looked over to Longshore, then back at her. "Sarah, Sarah...there's...there's something I need to say. Something I have to say before all of this...before it all goes down. Whatever is about to happen here, I need you to know this...You have to know. Whether this is the last time I...I ever get to see you again or, or not." Her heart seized in her chest. "You gotta know…"

"I know," she said steadily, in spite of the tears in her eyes. They weren't in her voice. "I know, Chuck."

Of course she knew. She'd known this whole time. How could she not know when he let her see it every single day? It was a gift and a curse. It made her job, her existence so much more difficult, and yet it felt like it...saved her at the same time. It hurt her to the deepest depths of her soul to see the yearning in him, and yet it made even the most unbearable days so much more bearable.

She knew. She knew with everything in her.

There was a slightly confused look in his face then, but before he could say anything else, Longshore's voice carried across the roof.

"Time's up."

Annoyed, she glanced over at the frustrated, impatient agent. They'd gotten longer than a minute. And that meant it was almost time to make her move.

Sarah turned back to Chuck, her hands still in his. She let out a rough breath, licking her lips. This was it.

"Goodbye, Sarah," he said quietly. And as he tried to slip his hands out of hers and move away to join Longshore again, she held fast to his hand and reached behind her back for her gun.

"Chuck." He glanced back at her, then seemed to notice her hand reaching back. His eyes widened. "Get down."

}o{

Where was Casey? Or Beckman? Or some agent they were possibly sending to get him out of this? What was the plan? He was almost certain Longshore wasn't a part of Beckman and Casey's plan. This was the CIA extracting him, but Casey would come right? Casey was going to show up and call Longshore off of their new NSA recruit. He'd fix it all. And then Chuck would be able to tell Sarah what he'd nearly just told her before she interrupted him.

She knew? She couldn't know. She couldn't know because Casey hadn't told her, and Chuck was sure he hadn't told her himself…

But Chuck had to trust them, both Casey and Sarah. In the last few months, that trust had gotten under his skin, melded itself to his bones, and he knew to believe what they were saying to him. He knew inherently to listen. So he knew Casey wouldn't let him down.

And that was why when Sarah told him to get down, his legs buckled under him and he hit the ground like someone had cut the strings holding him up. He didn't know why, and it didn't matter. She'd told him to get down.

He jolted as he heard two gunshots. Looking up at Sarah immediately, he saw she was pointing her gun at Longshore, brow furrowed in confusion, and then he looked over at Longshore who now lay dead on the roof, blood pooling out from under his head. ...Had she...?

But then Sarah spun and before she could pull the trigger, her own gun was shot right out of her hand. She yelped, cursed, and hefted him off the ground. "Go! Go, go go! Staircase! That way!"

Chuck felt her hands on him, the gunshots continuing, bullets smacking against the ground at his feet. He didn't glance over his shoulder to look at who'd killed Longshore, who was trying to kill him and Sarah. He just ran, feeling Sarah almost shoving him to get him down the stairs and out of sight.

A bullet pinged off the railing right next to his hand and he screamed, throwing his arms up and half-falling the rest of the way down the staircase. Movies made it look a lot easier to run when your hands were cuffed together than it actually was, he decided as Sarah shoved him inside of the door as another bullet cracked the plaster just over his head.

"Shit!" he heard Sarah snap as she dove in after him. "Go! Go, behind here!" she breathed, yanking him behind cover and holding her finger to her mouth.

"I listened to the receiver," a woman's voice echoed through the room a few moments later, and Sarah's grip on his bicep tightened.

They both looked up at each other, eyes wide. "She knows," they both whispered. That bunker was probably the safest place for him, as far as the CIA was concerned, and maybe...considering they didn't know about General Beckman recruiting him to the NSA...they had been right to send Longshore to get him and take him someplace safe.

"Do you know how many agents are looking for Bryce Larkin…?" Sarah caught his gaze and pointed to the right, towards another door. "Go that way," she silently mouthed, and he immediately followed orders. "And all this time, the Intersect was right here," the woman continued, her voice getting closer. "Wait until my superiors find out…"

Sarah grabbed Chuck again and swung him around behind another cover. If he tried for the door, the enemy agent would spot him. And he could see her sneaking through the room with her gun in one hand, Sarah's gun in the other. He'd be dead.

"Sarah," he whispered, forcing her blue eyes to find his. "What if-What if I surrender and you run? That'll maybe buy us some time. Time for Casey to catch up." She wouldn't know the full meaning of that, not yet anyway. "And you'll be free to come back and save me. Right? Or-Or I mean, I just go into another cell than the one the CIA was gonna put me in. What's the difference?"

"Torture," she replied immediately.

He paled. "Okay, we'll shelve that idea." Even in this dire situation, the slight upwards tilt of her mouth made his heart race even more than it already was. In a much better way.

"I only have one question for ya, Chuck." The woman lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers around the gun she held. Even in the darkness of the room, through the fence he and Sarah were hiding behind, the barrels and pipes obstructing his vision, the diamond glinted mockingly on her ring finger. "Who's the ring for?"

Oh, shit. God damn shit fuck.

"She has Ellie's engagement ring," he whispered, sending Sarah a panicked look.

He watched as Sarah's gaze dropped, her tongue darting out to lick her lips thoughtfully. "Okay. Distract her." And with her usual amount of unending determination and grit, she stood up and moved away from him.

"What? How?" He reached out to try to grab her and pull her back under cover but she shrugged him off easily, disappearing from sight. What? What the hell? How was he supposed to do that without getting a bullet in his head like Agent Longshore?

His mind going a mile a minute, it didn't quite coordinate with the rest of his body, and his legs straightened themselves out so that he distractedly stood to his full height. He saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned. There was the agent, looking right at him through the fence, both guns pointed at him.

He screamed and ran, not knowing where he was even going. But he was going anyway. Right back towards the door Sarah had pushed him through before, back to the staircase that led to the roof.

Well...shit.

"Chuck!" the woman barked behind him, and he spun at the top of the stairs, holding his still cuffed hands out in front of him. "I'm not gonna go away."

Not that he thought she would.

"Okay look! Look, look, look. You really wanna take me in? Fine. All right. But you're gonna have to sweeten the deal a little bit," he said, backing up the last few steps and moving onto the rooftop helipad once more.

"Hey, listen...okay? The CIA? They're offering me a nice padded cell, real cush, can ya beat that?" He was just buying time, but he was gonna run out of funds real soon here. He could see how pissed she was. He and Sarah hadn't made this easy for her and she was impatient, pissed. "I enjoy a good steam, ya know? You guys think you can get me a steam room or somethin'?"

"I don't think you're really in a position to bargain, Chuck."

He spotted some movement behind her then. Her back was to the staircase, and a blonde head slowly eased up into view, that deadly agent look plastered on Sarah's face as she slowly climbed up onto the roof behind the enemy agent. Chuck did his best not to move his eyes from the agent, not wanting to clue her in on the world of hurt she was about to experience.

"I have two guns. What do you have?" she asked.

"Me."

Oh shit, that was a line. And she timed it so well…

Right before Sarah tackled the other woman to the ground with a ferocity that made Chuck think this lady was freaking done for.

Sarah rolled up into a crouch and blasted the other woman in the face not once, but twice.

But then the enemy agent brought a leg up and around to crack it into the back of Sarah's skull, swinging the other around to smash it into the CIA agent's face. It sent Sarah to the ground, landing on her back hard. But just as fast, she did an epic move Bruce Lee would be proud of, leaping straight onto her feet from her back with a mighty swing of her legs and adjustment of her weight.

All he could do was watch, though, as Sarah was punched and kicked again. He could run at them, help her, but what kind of help would he be now? If he'd already been trained, maybe…

"HEY!" Everyone spun to look as Casey appeared at the stairs, gun in hand. Chuck turned back to see that Sarah had used the distraction to her advantage and had kicked at the enemy's leg, smashing her fist into her face and grabbing her by her shoulders to spin her. "BARTOWSKI, GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Casey bellowed.

But Sarah had brought the enemy agent down to the fencing at the edge of the building, kneeling over her, pinning her there and punching her. She had this.

"Move, Chuck!"

Oh. Oh, move. He was stepping to the side, spinning back to watch as Sarah was now pinned to her back, right on the edge. Oh, oh no.

Just as Casey raised his gun to shoot, Sarah got her hand around the other woman's neck and yanked her to the side, obviously having lost a sense of how far they were to the edge. The women rolled over the edge and plummeted to their doom.

"SARAH!" Chuck yelled, dashing to the edge of the roof. He felt the sickening sensation of loss before he even looked over the edge, terrified about what he would see…

But then he spotted both women painfully squirming around inside of a dumpster that had saved both of their necks. Relief rocked through him as he watched Sarah climb to her knees and give the enemy one final knock-out punch.

"Had a feeling that girl was dirty," Casey growled. Chuck turned to give him a flat look. The NSA agent just shrugged. "What?"

Chuck crawled to his knees and held on tight, leaning over the edge. "Sarah, you okay?" he called down.

She was standing in the garbage, gasping for breath, but she held up a hand. "Fine. Yeah. Can someone maybe help get me out of here, though?"

He and Casey looked at each other and nodded, making their way to the staircase and into the building. They'd take the safer route down.

Casey called in to get shawarma girl—aka Lizzie, apparently—brought in by the feds, and Chuck hoisted himself up to help Sarah climb out of the dumpster. "Maybe call the dump truck and just have them take her away in this," she groused over her shoulder as Casey got off of the phone.

Chuck kept a close eye on her as she eased herself to the blacktop and pushed her hands through her hair, still trying to catch her breath.

Sarah hadn't killed Longshore. Her gun was pointed at him...would she have shot him to get him off of that roof and away from the CIA? She hadn't been read into the NSA's plans yet. Was she prepared to do something that drastic? Take a man's life? What had been her plan in that moment before Lizzie had shown up to kill Agent Longshore instead?

And he wondered if any of that was going through her head as she choked out a cough and rubbed the back of her neck, looking pretty sore.

His phone buzzed then and he took it out to glance at it. It was Awesome, asking his "bro" where in the hell he was. He needed the ring. He was planning on popping the question soon. "Soon as in like an hour ago, bro," he'd finished it off with.

"The ring," Chuck said out loud.

"It's probably on her finger," Sarah muttered, off-handedly, even as a dark van swept in and pulled up close. Casey had his badge out immediately, they all exchanged a few code words or something—Chuck didn't know—and the agents climbed into the dumpster to grab Lizzie who was just starting to come to.

"Wait, wait," Chuck exclaimed, hurrying towards them as they started dragging the cuffed Fulcrum agent away. "Lemme see her fingers."

The agents looked at him like...well, like he'd just asked to see a Fulcrum agent's fingers.

Casey grunted and nodded at them, so they shrugged and let Chuck approach. He was smart enough not to get near her, merely looking at her hands. It wasn't there. Dear holy mother of God shit buckets to Betsy, the ring was gone.

"It's not there! It fell off her finger! Where's the ring?" he yelled in Lizzie's face, but she just spat at the ground at his feet. "Ew! Gross!" he barked at her, then sprinted around to the dumpster. "Is it still in here? How did the ring come off? Why did Awesome's grandma have such fat fingers?"

"Chuck, it's okay—"

"No, it isn't!" he said, trying to climb back into the dumpster. But his foot slipped on something wet on the side of the thing and he fell flat on his back. "Ow! …Ew! What was that? I don't wanna know, actually."

"Look, kid, we'll just find one similar enough. American tax dollars will pay for it. He won't even know it isn't the same one," Casey said with a shrug.

"The nonchalant attitude you have about using taxpayer money for… You know what? That's not the point, Casey! I was given a task by my future brother-in-law and I failed at that task!" he snapped, climbing back to his feet and brushing himself off.

Sarah finally climbed to her own feet, stretching her arms over her head with a wince and holding her lower back in pain. "You didn't fail, Chuck. You've saved lives. You've kept yourself out of a bunker."

"Have I, though? She listened to the receiver. She knows I'm the Intersect."

"You heard her, Chuck," Sarah said, lowering her voice and limping a little closer. He almost put his hand out to set it on her arm, her hip...somewhere to make sure she was okay. Part of his current panicked condition was that he thought she'd died for a full second and a half. "She didn't tell her superiors yet. She's the only person besides us and Beckman and Graham who knows about you. And she's in our custody. She's going in a dark hole where she'll never be able to tell anyone. You're safe. And free."

Not free. No. But he had a path he could take that might make him freer than he'd been the past few months. Beckman and Casey were giving him a path. And maybe...just maybe Sarah would be freer too. Whatever that meant.

Chuck just shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at the dumpster. "Look. You guys can...you can take Lizzie in. I'm staying here until I find that ring. Maybe it seems like it's just symbolic to you, and maybe that doesn't mean anything, and I get that, I don't judge you guys for it. I'd think the same thing if I were in your shoes. But I need to bring Captain Awesome _that ring_ or I'm the worst brother to ever walk the planet. I'll agonize over it for the rest of my life, I know I will. So...you do what you have to do. I'll do what _I_ have to do."

Casey rolled his eyes and grunted, following the agents with Lizzie. Sarah stared at him for a long time, and then she huffed and walked up to the dumpster, bracing her shoe on the groove in the side, grabbing the nasty corner, and hoisting herself up to straddle the top, half in and half out.

He just gaped at her as she took a small flashlight out of her back pocket and turned it on. Then she looked up at him, holding her hands out to the side expectantly. "I'm sure as fuck not gonna be the only one digging through other people's nasty-ass garbage to look for this fucking ring, so are you coming or what?"

Chuck grinned at her, not even caring if he looked a little dreamy staring up at her, hanging half inside of a dumpster, a smudge on her cheek, a piece of paper in her tangled hair, a look of extreme reluctance on her features.

He was absolutely positive he was looking at unrivaled beauty, both inside and out. Honestly.

And then he shook himself and cleared his throat. "Right. Yes. Right behind ya. Into the dumpster we go."

They tag-teamed the dumpster for what felt like hours, passing the flashlight back and forth, using the light from their phones, trying in vain to find the ring. Chuck nearly cried twice, frustration getting the better of him.

And he kept ignoring Awesome's texts until said texts stopped altogether. As long as he eventually showed up with that ring, all would be forgiven. He knew. That was how Devon Woodcomb operated. It was why he was Captain Awesome. But Chuck needed that God damn ring.

"Okay, I have to say it." Sarah straightened up, popping her back a little, rolling her head on her shoulders. The sun was starting to come up, the dark sky lightening just a little, pinks and purples dotting the horizon. Chuck just kept looking, his vision blurred he was so damn tired. "We're never going to find this thing. This dumpster is endless, Chuck. It's endless. And the ring could be anywhere in here."

"Okay, well...we aren't gonna find it with that attitude." He realized then how ungrateful he sounded. He was tired, frustrated, still panicking, worried sick that he'd really lost such an important heirloom. But she'd been here next to him searching for the ring for what amounted to almost three hours now. She could've left him here. And she hadn't. So he turned and looked at her. "Sorry. I actually do appreciate you. Seriously."

She sniffed in amusement and started looking again, having since pocketed her flashlight. "Yeah, I know. S'all right. I'm going to have to shower for three hours straight in pure bleach, but it's all right. Weirdly enough, this isn't my first time in a dumpster."

"That _is_ weird."

He laughed as she smirked and threw a balled up fast food wrapped at him. "Ew!"

"You deserved it," she chuckled, bending back to her task.

They were picking at garbage methodically, still looking for it a few minutes later, when Chuck moved a pizza box and saw something he absolutely and definitely didn't need to see. "Oh, okay. Whoa. Wow. Ladies' feminine product. Okay." He turned away from it completely and kept digging. "Are you, uh, are you sure that Lizzie didn't have the ring on her?"

"When they took her away, all she had on her was the receiver." Something in her voice let him know the smell was getting to her again. He emphathized. He really did.

"Well, it _has_ to be here somewhere then."

"Ya know, what Casey said is right. If we can't find it, we can just replace it for you. And he won't know."

"Look! Look, it was Awesome's great-granny's ring and it's gonna be my sister's, okay? It has to be that ring. Even if it's covered in coffee grounds and miscellaneous DNA." He tossed cupcake bits down at his feet in frustration.

He'd been avoiding a certain corner of the dumpster because there was a diaper there. But he felt like he'd covered every inch of his side of this damn thing except for there...and God, he'd have to touch it. He'd have to touch the diaper. _It's just baby poo, it's just baby poo, it's just baby poo...no big deal…_

Chuck made a grossed out sound and moved it to the side, careful not to look, and then he glanced down at the barbecue pan someone had tossed. Shifting it a little, he saw something glinting amidst the crumbled donuts. He shook it like he was in the gold rush panning for gold and caught sight of the diamond. "Oh. Oh, Sarah. Sarah!"

"What?!" she snapped.

He snagged it out of the pan and held it up in the light. "This is it! HO HO HOOOOO! I FOUND IT! I'VE GOT IT, SARAH!"

Knowing he had a shit ton of missed calls and texts from Awesome, he clambered for the side of the dumpster. "Let's go. Let's get back. Awesome's probably having a fuckin' heart attack right now."

He reached in to help Sarah out and they raced to Sarah's car.

She paused at the door. "Oh, God. My nice seats...this is the worst day ever," she groused. "My Porsche is gonna have garbage seats."

"I'll clean it myself. Deep clean. I promise," he said, and he got in, watching as she winced at seeing him sitting in her pristine passenger seat.

Groaning, she got in as well, then raced through the streets of Los Angeles back to his Echo Park apartment. When she pulled up next to the sidewalk, Chuck didn't even wait for her to stop before he tumbled out of the car, nearly strangling himself with the seatbelt.

He went straight for his window, the Morgan door, and climbed into his bedroom, stopping for just a moment to take a deep breath and pulling the ring out of his pocket. The diamond was a little smudged—probably donut grease—so he wiped it off as best he could with his tie, the only partially clean thing on him, he thought to himself.

And then he hurried out of his bedroom and down the hallway into the living room.

Awesome sat still as a statue on the couch, Ellie fast asleep with her head pillowed on his lap. They'd had their romantic night, but Awesome had missed his opportunity to propose, apparently, before Chuck's sister fell asleep. Damn it. He was late.

But better late than never, he hoped.

As he walked around the couch, Awesome turned tired, panicked eyes up to look at his future brother-in-law. He gave him the most 'what the hell' look Chuck had ever seen on his face, hands spread. He thought there was maybe even a smidgeon of anger, or more like frustration maybe.

"I'm so sorry," Chuck breathed, shaking his head. And then he held the ring up for Ellie's future fiance to see. "It might be a little dirty…" And then he tossed the ring in Awesome's direction.

He caught it and turned it in his fingers, a beaming grin on his face. "Way to go, Chuck. Always knew you could handle my family jewels. ...So to speak."

Why was he like this?

And he'd have to deal with 'this' for the rest of his life. Chuck smiled at the thought.

Ellie shifted in her sleep then, letting out a long sigh, nuzzling the pillow between her head and Awesome's lap. The abject fear reappeared on Awesome's face then as he looked down at her and froze, the ring clutched between his fingers.

"Uhh...You know, when she's sleepin' real hard like that, sometimes if you pinch her nose, you…" The other man was giving him a look as if wondering why he was even still in the room. He got the hint. "Right. Well, I'm gonna—Right. Okay."

He left through the front door this time, easing the door shut behind him. He saw Sarah was waiting there for him, right next to the door, leaning back against the wall in exhaustion. Again, she'd had the option of leaving, and she hadn't. She was right here. Waiting.

"Mission accomplished," he drawled, leaning against the doorjamb so that his shoulder was just barely brushing against hers.

"Honestly, I can't believe you pulled that off. Odds were stacked against you on this one. And by odds I mean a whole lot of garbage." She sent him an amused but bone-deep tired look.

Chuck snorted. "I can face infinite dumpsters' worth of garbage odds with you at my side." She turned and gave him a long look, the corners of her mouth turning up just enough for him. "And anyway, it'll make one helluva story at their wedding." She was silent and he turned to see she was giving him a look that very clearly said _Really?_ Oh. "Which I'm never allowed to talk about under fear of death, understood, I have other material," he rushed out in a tired, droll voice.

But Sarah had already turned away from him, glancing towards the living room window. "You wanna…?" she asked, her quiet voice dripping with mischief.

It did something to him, and he raised his eyebrows teasingly. "What, spy? You?" he flirted.

She grinned and swung around to ease up against the window, peeking into the room. Chuck followed behind her, his heart in his throat, knowing what he'd see when he looked in… His sister was taking this big step with the man she loved, a man Chuck loved in his own way. They were adding one to their little family. And Ellie—God, Ellie was going to be so happy.

There was a lump in his throat as Sarah stepped back and let him have the prime view at the window. He felt her at his shoulder as he watched his sister say the word—one easy, simple word—and throw her arms around Awesome's neck.

Without warning, an emotional bubble popped in his chest and he let out a breathy chuckle. Relief, happiness, the knowledge that his sister was going to have everything she wanted. It was what she deserved. "She looks so happy," he muttered in a voice raspy with emotion.

"Yeah, she does," Sarah said, her voice still quiet.

There was silence between them for a few seconds as Ellie and Awesome pulled out of the hug and kissed. Ellie took the ring from him and giggled at the way it slid so easily onto her finger. That would need to be resized, he thought distractedly. He'd maybe let Awesome take care of that himself. He didn't want to be responsible for the damn thing ever again.

And he thought he was incredibly lucky to be standing here right now, that he would be around to get it resized for them if they needed him to, instead of in a bunker somewhere with them thinking he was dead or missing or something.

"I couldn't leave 'em yet," he murmured.

"That isn't something you have to worry about now, Chuck. Lizzie's not going to be telling anyone who you are."

There was something tentative in her voice, though, as if she was too tired to mask it with confidence and reassurance. She still didn't know about the NSA's offer. She thought things were going to be the way they'd been before. And he couldn't tell her now, not when they were both so exhausted, not in this moment that was supposed to be about Ellie getting engaged.

"Maybe not this time," he said. "But...it feels like they keep getting closer. Eventually they might find out about me, about who I am, what I have." And he needed to be ready. The NSA was going to make sure he was ready. "We'll have a lot more to worry about than just a receiver then."

She was silent for a good chunk of time. And then she said, oh so quietly, "Think you should go in and congratulate Ellie?"

Chuck knew she changed the topic on purpose. And she knew that he knew. She respected him enough to know that tactic wouldn't work on him. But he let it go. He had a lot more to tell her about the future of this operation and how all of them were proceeding. Just...not now.

He turned his head towards her, just a bit. "You wanna come in with me?" he asked.

There was a long pause again and he could feel her gaze on the side of his face. He was careful not to actually turn to face her and look into her eyes. He didn't know why. "Oh. It-It's family time…"

Chuck used a voice as quiet as hers to answer. "I know."

And then he moved to the door and opened it just a little, beckoning her with a bit of a smile. He wasn't going to force her to answer with words, because he knew she struggled to use them sometimes. He just paused there, and she smiled a little, looking reluctant even as she nodded.

He fought back a grin and opened the door wider for her to let her walk in first. And because he couldn't help it, when Ellie and Awesome turned to face them, Chuck burst past Sarah and gathered her teary sister up in a tight embrace. He lifted her off the floor as she squealed, then set her down again, cupping her face, using his thumb to wipe one of her tears.

His heart was so full as he saw sincere, blossoming bliss in her green eyes, in her smile. "Guess we're adding one to this family of two, huh?" he asked her and she nodded.

"Heck yeah you are!" Awesome boomed and Chuck was gathered up in a tight hug, thumping him hard on the back.

"Sarah! Oh, I'm glad you're here too!"

Chuck turned just enough to see an obviously tentative Sarah Walker hanging off to the side with a happy but slightly unsure look on her face, like she wasn't as sure as he was that she should be a part of this. But then his sister practically pounced, squeezing her tightly.

"Congratulations," Sarah said, squeezing back.

"Thank yooou!"

And then they broke apart and Sarah offered a hug for the groom-to-be, laughing as he picked her up off the ground and spun her in a little half circle. Chuck was just glad Awesome didn't pull...well, an Awesome, and say something about his relationship with Sarah. Something about adding a fourth someday. Maybe he was practicing tact, even as he knuckled Chuck in the shoulder purposely. Or maybe he was just too happy for himself right now that he didn't think about it. Either way, Chuck was super grateful.

Instead, he watched as the real couple went in to hug again, staying with their arms wrapped around one another as they faced the not-as-real couple. Chuck slung his arm over Sarah's shoulders.

"So...wedding tomorrow then, orrrr…?" he teased.

"Shut up," Ellie groused, rolling her eyes as Sarah giggled, her own arm wrapping around his waist. He felt it acutely as her hand squeeze his hip, and he pulled her in closer, leaning his cheek against her hair.

He wasn't out of the woods. None of them were...not yet. There was so much coming up. It was like being in the car on the 15 on the way to Las Vegas with nothing but rocky desert on either side of you, but seeing the tall hotel casinos and the pyramid and Eiffel Tower looming in the distance, getting bigger and bigger…but if Las Vegas was just a bunch of hard decisions and truth telling and training to be an NSA agent instead of drunken gambling and debauchery.

He was going to stay in this moment, though, for as long as he could. As Ellie dashed to the kitchen to make mimosas, as if the orange juice made the celebratory champagne more appropriate for nearly seven in the morning.

"Uh...do you think either of us should be having champagne after not sleeping all night?" Sarah asked under her breath as Awesome moved to help his newly-minted fiancee.

"Nope. But I'm just going to do it anyway and enjoy it." He didn't take his arm off of her shoulders or pull away as he turned to look down into her face. "I'm going to enjoy all of it."

}o{

He watched her leave, waving at her. Today had been close. Today had been the thing he dreaded most since she and Casey had come into his life. It also hit home how far she was willing to go to save him. Sarah had been ready to shoot Longshore to save him. She had been ready to throw her career away for him.

Chuck took a deep breath and let that settle over him. In the past few weeks they had acknowledged there was...something. She would do anything for him. He would do anything for her. This would protect her…make her mad as hell, but protect her. He had to trust that what they had could overcome this. He had to believe that she would one day forgive him. But if she didn't, he could live with it, because he couldn't live with himself if he didn't do this. He couldn't be the guy that got Sarah fired, or had her quitting the CIA. Whatever happened next, he was okay with it. He hoped for the best, but was prepared for the worst. He owed her everything, and it was time to do what was right by her. It was time for Chuck to take responsibility into his hands.

He took a deep breath and decided it was time...it was time to fix this… That, and he really didn't want to go back to the apartment right now because Awesome and Ellie might be celebrating. He walked over to Casey's apartment and knocked on the door. The door opened and Casey was standing there with a smirk on his face and a pen in hand. Like he'd expected this knock to come.

Chuck took the pen, walked into the front room, and saw papers on a desk in front of the TV monitor. General Beckman was on the monitor, standing there, with dare he say, a proud look on her face. "Are you doing this of your own free will?" He gave her a look, and she chuckled. "I do understand this is probably not the way you wanted to join us, Mr. Bartowski, but you do have a choice."

"I really don't," Chuck replied. He saw a certain look on her face. "I don't have a choice while getting to lead the kind of life I want." Beckman nodded in understanding. He wasn't sure how she could understand, unless she knew how he felt about Sarah. "For the record, I get to stay here?"

"Yes, Chu-...Agent Bartowski," Beckman replied. Chuck's eyes widened. "After you sign on, I'll tell Director Graham that you are now an NSA agent and due to NSA security concerns, only agents that currently know about the Intersect are allowed on the team."

"So Sarah and Bryce?" Chuck asked.

"There are a handful of others, all who have been thoroughly vetted by the NSA," Beckman replied. Chuck nodded. "Agent Bartowski, he's not pulling Sarah from the team. As much as I don't like some of the things Langston Graham does, he does not mess with success."

"Plus it isn't like Graham ever tells Walker anything," Casey added. "So you tell her when you're ready."

"But it should be soon, Agent Bartowski," Beckman said. Chuck nodded and leaned forward to sign, but stop and stood upright again holding the pen. Beckman chuckled.

"I have a few questions," Chuck said. He felt Casey glaring at him. "What about when the Intersect gets taken out of me, or there's a new one, or…whatever?"

"If there is an updated one, we would prefer you are the one who uploads the Intersect," Beckman replied. "If it is removed from you, you will have the opportunity to become a regular agent." Chuck furrowed his brow. "Agent Bartowski, I am under no illusion that you are what one would call a normal NSA agent. Could you kill someone for the mission? I believe so. Would it be right to try and turn you into an assassin? No. We will train you, we will make you an agent, but I would be a fool to try to stuff you, a round circle if you would, into a square hole. We need to use your skill sets that you have. Also, you watch too many movies." Casey chuckled beside him. "You have romanticized what this job is. Much of it is surveillance, and with your ability to flash, you make things much easier. I could put you in a room, have you watch multiple monitors, and give us data to make decision-making faster, better, and more effective. However, that puts you at risk. I am making you part of our...well, for a lack of better word, our A-team. You three have created this…er..."

"Strange, General?" Casey offered.

"Exactly," Beckman replied. "This strange unit that is incredibly effective. You're making Graham look like a damn genius, which I'm not a fan of, but what can we do? Agent Bartowski… Chuck...we are fighting something in FULCRUM we do not understand, and you are helping the greater good."

"Like Casey," Chuck said softly.

"And, Walker," Casey added. Chuck looked over at him and nodded. He bent down and signed all the papers. And then he stood up and looked at them. "Now what?"

"Now maybe you can go tell your partner," Beckman said, with a disapproving look.

"Uh, General, about that," Chuck began.

"Stow it, Bartowski," Beckman ordered. She grinned. "I've waited so long to say that. I don't care WHAT you two do." She drew up and looked at him. "I've had to listen to you two dancing around whatever it is you two are dancing around all this time. And you, Major Casey!" Casey's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "You are as bad as they are, driving him nuts with all your innuendos." She paused. "You three are a team now. Act like it. Major, begin his training. Bartowski, talk to your partner and…whatever else you have to do that makes this less annoying for me."

With that, she cut the feed.

"What the hell just happened?" Chuck asked.

"I think the General just told you to get laid," Casey replied.

Chuck stood there a second staring at the spot where the General had just been. "I'm an agent." Casey turned toward him but Chuck was staring straight ahead at the monitor still. "I'm an agent."

"Christ," Casey muttered.

"Don't freak out."

* * *

 **A/N:** This is fine….this is fine….SC! Is this fine?

It's fine, David. Please review, folks. It means a lot! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and for the reviews! Keeping this short and sweet so that you can just get to reading.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we're not making any money from writing this rewrite.

* * *

"About time you got here," Casey grumbled as Chuck walked through the door of Casey's apartment. Chuck felt surprisingly okay given this was his third day as a NSA Agent. Of course he still hadn't been on a mission, but nothing had gone wrong...yet.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Major Casey," Chuck said pleasantly.

Casey turned slowly to him, eyeing him. "Haven't gotten the guts to tell her yet, have you?"

"Nope," Chuck replied quickly, the unpleasant feeling he had each time he thought about telling Sarah returning to his stomach. "Figured I'll wait for after a misch or two."

"Misch?"

"You know, a mission," Chuck offered. He widened his eyes and pressed his lips together at the look on Casey's face. "I think I'll never do that again."

"See that you don't," Casey said, slamming a file into his chest. Chuck took it from him and began to leaf through it.

"Any thoughts on us changing cover jobs?" Chuck asked hopefully. "Devon and Ellie would be super excited."

"Negative," Casey replied. Chuck looked up at him. "Until you're properly trained we don't want anything to disrupt what looks normal. Also, look to stay clear of the assistant manager job. One, it will get in the way of our missions, two, it might look like you're making something out of yourself, and that's the best cover, looking like a nobody." Chuck nodded, understanding, but also a bit disappointed. "You do nobody better than anyone I know." Chuck glared at Casey, but Casey's heart really wasn't in the quip. It was more of a second nature banter between the two. Dear God, they were becoming friends. Casey took a sip of coffee and nodded toward the file. "Also, trust me on this one, stay in the car."

"Holy crap, look at the size of that guy!" Chuck exclaimed seeing the picture of Colt. Casey grunted his agreement. "Do I know enough moves yet to fight him?" Casey gave him a look. "Right, one day of physical training is not enough."

"That was how to properly stretch, idiot!"

"Well, we may need to do it again, because I am very sore this morning," Chuck countered.

Casey glared at him and then grinned. "If you'd tell your girlfriend she'd probably help you rub it out," Casey answered. He stopped, lifted his head and grinned.

"Don't," Chuck warned. "Just don't."

"Bartowski, I get it," Casey said as placatingly as he knew how. "But what's done is done. She'll either be mad, or she won't be mad."

"She's gonna be mad," Chuck replied. Casey grunted in agreement. "Colt, huh?" he asked, looking at the file. "Did he eat another person to grow that big?" Casey chuckled. "You enjoy working with me."

Casey's head shot up. "You take that back," he said, following Chuck out of the apartment.

"Nope, you like working with me," he said in a sing-song voice. He stopped as he saw Sarah walk up to them.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked, eyeing the two. Chuck knew he had to be careful. Sarah was the best spy on the planet and he had to tell her about joining the NSA before she sussed it out of him.

"Never better," Chuck replied. "We got a mission and Casey enjoys working with me!"

She looked from one to the other, a curious look on her face. She settled her gaze on Chuck. "You couldn't wait for me for the briefing?"

Chuck's eyes grew wide and he looked to Casey, who was giving him a look that all but screamed, "TELL HER!"

"Uh, time sensitive," Chuck offered.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asked Casey, pointedly ignoring Chuck.

"Probably some cold medicine, you know what a lightweight he is," Casey replied. "I think he needs to talk to you." With that he walked away.

She turned toward him. "So, I was thinking…" he took a deep breath. "You know what, maybe we should talk after the misch."

"Misch?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"So that's a no from you as well about misch?" She turned and walked away from him. "So that's a firm no?" he called out. She was gone. And so was his opportunity to tell her the truth.

}o{

"Bartowski," Casey began.

"Stay in the car, Chuck, don't get out of the car, Chuck," he mocked, hearing a soft snort out of Sarah. "You know the car isn't always the safest place."

"Numbnuts, stay in the car," Casey said getting out of the car.

"You only say that because you care!" Chuck called after him. He turned to Sarah who was giving him a look. "He does," he reaffirmed.

"Yeah, he does," Sarah replied, nodding. "We both do."

"And I care about both of you," Chuck replied with a grin.

"Good, so stay in the car," she chirped, hopped out, and shut the door. She leaned down with her arms propped on the door as she peered through the open window. "Please."

"I will do my best, m'lady," Chuck said with a flourish of a bow.

"Nerd," she muttered, and walked off.

He'd been sitting and keeping watch when he spotted a van round the corner and pull up. He sunk down in the seat, watching as a group of men got out of the car, one carrying a briefcase. He brought his watch up close to his mouth. "Casey, Sarah!" he whispered frantically. "A bunch of Colt's men just appeared… Oh jeez that guy's even bigger than his picture!" Colt got out of the vehicle, and the briefcase was handed off to him. Several got back into the van as it took off. "Casey? Sarah?" No response. "A lot of bad guys," he muttered to himself. He gulped and sunk a little lower, but then he remembered he was an agent with the NSA now, and he had a duty to fulfill. "Okay, I can do this," he said softly. He eased out of the car, snuck towards the building without being spotted, and headed inside. He stopped at the elevator and watched as the numbers above it counted all the way up to the twelfth floor, sighing. "I guess this is what the training is for," he groused as he glanced at the door to the stairs and made his way towards it.

He finally reached the twelfth floor what felt like years later, a little winded, and noticed the briefcase was in the middle of the room, unattended. Colt was on the other side of the room talking on the phone. Chuck watched as he turned and headed for the door that led out of the room, finally disappearing from view. Chuck looked back and forth to make sure he was alone, and then made as quiet of a beeline as he could towards the briefcase before opening it.

The cipher.

He picked it up, put it in his jacket pocket, spun to escape, and ran right into the hard mass that was Colt. He bounced off and hit the ground, looking up.

"How do you move so quietly?"

Colt reached down, grabbed him by the foot, and unceremoniously dragged him to an open window. Before Chuck could do or say anything else, Colt had him by the ankle and swung him out of an open window, dangling him there twelve floors high, the Los Angeles pavement almost taunting him down below.

"Before you do anything rash, I think you should know that I have the Cipher!" Chuck yelled desperately.

"Hand it over right now," Colt growled.

"Don't you think we should discuss terms first?" Chuck asked, thinking about how mad Sarah and Casey were going to be.

"Fine, my terms are this. Give me the cipher and I shoot you in the head and you die quickly. Make me take it and I'll drop you."

"I don't like those terms," Chuck nearly whimpered.

"Who are you?" Colt asked.

"Your worst nightmare," Chuck said, trying his Clint Eastwood impersonation but realized being upside down took away some of its flair. "You know what? You probably wouldn't believe me." Colt raised an eyebrow and let one finger open. Chuck screamed. "Okay, see th-the thing is I-I kind of sort of work for the CIA and the NSA in my off hours when I'm not working at the store. It's kind of like a second job for me. And though I don't look it—being lanky of build—you should know that I'm probably the most important intelligence asset in the world. I've also just recently joined the NSA full-time."

Colt just stared at him. "That is the single dumbest lie I've ever heard."

"I don't disagree," Chuck replied. "And while it may be, if you drop me, there are a couple of people who are going to be very, very upset." The door burst opened and Sarah and Casey were standing there, guns drawn. "There they are."

"Huh," Casey grumbled. "He hasn't pissed himself," he said softly to Sarah. "Let the geek go!" he yelled.

"WAIT!" Sarah countered. "Not out the window!"

"I mean, that was implied," Casey groused. Colt pulled Chuck back in to safety and tossed him at the two of them. Chuck slammed hard into both of them, all three crashing into a heap on the floor as Colt took off.

The three untangled themselves and Chuck felt both pairs of eyes staring at him as he tried to recuperate.

"Why didn't you stay in the car?" Sarah snapped.

"Because there were a lot of bad guys outside where the car was, okay?" Chuck replied. "Besides, I was working on my tailing." Sarah glared at him. "Which in hindsight may have been a mistake." She shook her head, twisting her lips. He held up the cipher. "Besides, I have it."

That got a grin out of her.

"Good, let's get out of here," Casey muttered, pushing them both in front of him. "Walker can give you your reward later."

"Just being around the two of you is reward enough," Chuck retorted.

}o{

As usual, Beckman was sitting and Graham was standing once Casey pulled up the feed after they got back to his apartment. It continued to bother Chuck, but Sarah and Casey didn't seem fussed.

He'd decided to shut the laptop he'd been working on, reading and studying some NSA crash coursework that Casey had pulled up for him. General Beckman was his boss now and this was his job. So he faced front and listened.

"Excellent work, Sarah, Casey," Graham said. "Our transporters will be taking the cipher out of Los Angeles."

"General, what exactly is the cipher?" Sarah asked. Chuck looked up. Why was Sarah asking the General? Why wasn't she asking her own boss? Chuck knew the answer to that. Because Graham was controlling her by keeping her in the dark. But why? Why keep your best agent in the dark? And was Sarah doing this pointedly to send Graham some sort of message? "I mean, mercenaries break into the NSA lab, and it's the only thing they take?"

"The cipher is the artificial brain for the new Intersect computer," Beckman said glancing at a Graham, who had the briefest look of annoyance on his face.

"The new Intersect?" Chuck asked, sitting up straighter. What in the hell?

"We've been working on a new one ever since the original Intersect was destroyed. The cipher is the final piece," Graham explained.

"Uh, wait, time out just for a second here," Chuck said, standing up. Something about this just didn't feel right. "What-what happens to me, the old Intersect?" Were they about to put him in a bunker? Or worse?

"Tomorrow, the new computer will be online, and Operation Bartowski continues on," Graham said, not hiding the annoyance on his face. "What did you think we were going to do, Bartowski? Waste taxpayer money after we built the Orange Orange and your new base? Throw you in a bunker? Shoot you?"

Chuck flinched at that last part. "Well…the thought had crossed my mind," Chuck admitted.

"You are the star of the project, Bartowski," Graham admitted. He looked like he had bitten into something sour. "Whether we like it or not…" He reached over Beckman's shoulder and cut the feed, but not before Beckman sent Chuck a significant look.

He blinked, then turned to nod at Sarah and Casey, before spinning on his heel and moving towards Casey's door.

He needed some sleep.

He needed to plot out his conversation with Sarah. _The_ conversation.

"Are you okay, Chuck?" he heard behind him then as he got into the courtyard.

He spun around and saw Sarah following him out, shutting the door behind her.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm, uh, uh... I mean, I-I don't believe it. I had no idea, Sarah. I figured if they ever made another Intersect, they'd take this one out of me."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. I know you thought you were going to get your old life back, but Casey and I are still here with you," she told him.

"Yeah, I'm starting to think that you and Casey are going to be my spy protectors forever. Or, whatever the adult version of forever is."

She took his hand, and he stilled. "Hey, if I am, it's okay." There was a bit of a smile on her face, and he smiled back at her. "Besides, if we were gone, wouldn't you miss all of this?"

"Oh, absolutely," Chuck replied, realizing he was flirting, but not caring, because...he could. "I mean it's really obvious I'm cut out for the kind of job that requires disarming a bomb, stealing a diamond, and then jumping off a building."

"About time you accepted it," she said warmly.

Chuck laughed. "That's very kind of you to say, but I'm pretty sure my girlish screams in the face of danger give me away."

"So, what happens now?" Sarah asked.

"Well, you know, I've got a shift at the Buy More in the morning…" he began but he stopped when he saw a doubtful, almost unsure look come over her face.

"Chuck, can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Of course. You can always tell me anything, Sarah," he replied.

She looked at him with...was it pride? "You can do anything. I've seen you in action. And I'm not just talking about the bomb defusing, or the diamond stealing. I mean, anything you wanted, you could have." Her smile was small but warm.

Anything? His mind was racing. Did she mean it? Was this it? Why hadn't he told her?

"I need to get home, I've got my new business to start tomorrow," Sarah said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Any chance I could work for you? I mean I would wear orange Chucks...for you."

"You're sweet, really, but no. We work together enough."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, huh?" His eyes widened as he realized what he said. She shook her head, laughed, and walked off. He watched her go. Her words kept playing through his mind… Anything.

}o{

Chuck sat at the breakfast table. He had been in a daze since his alarm had gone off. He was still trying to figure out how to tell Sarah without her yelling at him, murdering him, or something even worse...leaving. He was eating, his appetite finally returning after catching Ellie and Awesome in the shower together. The air in the room was getting a bit uncomfortable so Chuck decided to say something.

"Okay, first of all, congratulations, Devon. On the... On what—You know, whatever God gave you there," Chuck began. "Second of all, the door was not locked, so I'm not a complete pervert. And third of all, this is just another reminder of why I need my own place."

"There's no rush, Chuck. It's great having you here," Ellie said immediately.

Devon was nodding but Chuck was in his own head at that point, worried about the prospect of further pulling these two into the other side of his life.

"So, Ellie," he began. "I've been—I've been thinking a lot about stuff, you know, like, uh, my life and my job."

"Unburden yourself, Chuck. Where's that head of yours?" Awesome asked.

"I don't know, I just think you guys are right, you know? I shouldn't—I shouldn't be working at a Buy More, right? I should have a real job with a real future," Chuck replied. "But I'm kinda stuck and I need to do...something."

"What happened?" Ellie asked, looking hopeful.

"You know when you meet someone and they just kind of, you know, they-they flip you on your head, just shake things up a little bit?"

Awesome grinned, and clapped his shoulder. "You're talking about a Mr. Tony Robbins."

Chuck's eyes widened. "So close, and yet so far away." Chuck took a deep breath. "It's Sarah, okay? And well, no matter what happens between us, I need to do more, and I am."

"What do you mean no matter what happens between us?" Ellie asked. "Chuuuuck…?"

"Okay, okay, you know she had a boyfriend back in DC?" Ellie nodded. "Well, he lied to her and she has a lot of trust issues because of it." Ellie nodded and stared. Chuck gulped. "I promised her if I did something I would talk to her about it first, and I didn't. I just did it."

"Chuckster," Devon groaned.

"I know, I know, but it all happened suddenly," Chuck replied.

"Just tell her now," Devon said like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Yeah, it's not going to be that easy," Chuck replied. "It happened a little while ago." Ellie looked at him closely and he sighed, shaking his head. "I turned down the assistant manager job, because if I take it, I'm even more chained to retail. There's more to my life than the Buy More. I mean, I want more." He had a big chance to have a lot more.

"Are you going to go work with Sarah at the Orange Orange?" Ellie asked. Chuck furrowed his brow and tilted his head in confusion. "Oh, come on! It's so much healthier, I know how much she hated Scooter, and it only makes sense. We're doctors, Chuck, we're not idiots. Sarah is smart as a tack. She obviously took that job after leaving Washington because she just needed a job. She found the opportunity to invest in this Orange Orange business and she took it." That wasn't exactly right, but Chuck wasn't going to argue with her. Ellie was thinking as she pointed her spoon at him. "Something bad happened there, in DC."

"Yeah, it did... what, I couldn't tell you," Chuck admitted. "She really doesn't want to talk about it, and I'm okay with that, but...again, there were some things kept from her, and...this is a major screw up on my part. She let me in, you know? We're a couple, and I made a decision without even talking to her, and that decision kinda affects us."

"Talk to her, Chuck. I don't think it will be that big of a deal." Ellie stared at him long enough to make him almost uncomfortable. "There has to be more," she muttered then, almost as if to herself.

"If I didn't do what I did, there's a good chance the job would have asked me to relocate, so I felt like I had no choice, but I did. I had a choice, I had the opportunity to sit down with her and just talk to her about it, and I really think she would have backed me but…"

"You left her out of it," Devon said, and then he looked straight at Ellie. "Do you have four feet in?"

The resulting look on Ellie's face was something he never wanted to see again in his life.

"You know what? I'm late, I do have to go. Good talk and I will talk with her!"

Chuck raced out of the house.

}o{

Chuck entered the Buy More, still wallowing in his own fear about the implications of all of this. He was so unsure, scared, questioning whether she really would've backed him if he'd told her. Or if she would've tried to talk him out of it. It sent a pang through him.

He walked past many members of the Buy More talking about the new Assistant Manager being sent in from HQ, some guy named Emmett.

Morgan walked up beside him, almost as if appearing straight out of thin air. "Follow me."

Chuck followed Morgan off to the side of the store where they could see the entrance, who was coming and going.

"Hey. What's up, buddy?"

Morgan looked around and unrolled a map. "Large Mart goons," he began. "They could be anywhere. I don't want them to see this."

"Uh, buddy, what is this?"

"Compound level from Call of Duty. After our last battle with those Large Mart douches, I started to work on this. Planning how we could take 'em all out. All right, listen up. Here are the specs, are you ready?" Chuck nodded. "Twenty-three infantry troopers, sixteen snipers, seven heavy gunners, four demolitions experts, and enough ammunition to orbit Arnold Schwarzenegger. Fifty gamers, one call, all ready for battle. With this team assembled, and my plan, I think we can beat 'em."

Chuck grinned and clapped Morgan on the back. "Morgan, you are my new hero."

"I know," Morgan said with a modest shrug. Chuck spotted Casey across the store then. They made eye contact and Casey gestured with a jerk of his head towards the home theater room. He'd been at this long enough to know exactly what that meant.

"Uh, hey, uh, can I talk to you about this later?" Chuck asked. Morgan nodded and Chuck headed over to the home theater room.

"What's up?" Chuck asked.

"Uh, I, uh, overheard your conversation this morning," Casey began.

"What happened to removing the bugs?" Chuck asked.

"I got the ones out of the bathroom and your bedroom but there are still a couple in the kitchen," Casey explained. "Nicely put to Ellie. Maybe make a spy out of you yet."

"Yeah, well you might have to dig up my corpse to continue the training once I tell Sarah," Chuck rebutted, not looking happy.

"Bartowski, it's time. Well past time." Casey looked around. "It's time...to...uh..." Casey looked extremely uncomfortable, his attempt at tact failing him as he tried to tell him to finally spill the beans to the CIA agent. Chuck decided to put Casey out of his misery.

Chuck clapped Casey on the shoulder.

"Cover for me?" Casey nodded and Chuck left the Buy More to head over to the Orange Orange. No more plans. No outlining of the conversation. He needed to just do it, get it done. And brace himself for impact. The full force of it. Because it wasn't just her anger he was worried about. Not even in his own mind would he admit what else he was worried about. Not right before telling her. He'd psych himself out.

He opened the door as Sarah finished serving her customer. Chuck watched the customer leave and turned to her. "Do you miss it?" he asked.

"You mean my clothes constantly smelling like sausages…? Or Scooter?" she asked. Chuck cracked up. "No."

He knew what he was doing, now that he was here and she was standing in front of him, he was wavering a bit. He felt the weight of what he'd come here to do pressing down on his shoulders. So he stalled. He wasn't proud of himself for it. "It's cleaner. All clean and shiny and white."

"Mhm, sort of like a hospital."

The comedic timing was spot on and Chuck found himself choking out a laugh. "Yeah, a little bit! Although Scooter also reminded me of a hospital in some ways," he drawled, and she gave him a look like she wasn't sure where he was going with that. "I mean, they both fill me with very negative feelings."

Sarah snorted. "That's fair. A bit of a reach but I'll let you have it." She sobered just a bit. "Plus this is a much better set-up. They've had time to get it together now so it isn't just me and some overbearing jerk manager. General Beckman is sending some of our own people here to run the store under my 'management'." She tossed air quotes up.

"How will that work?" She gave him a look. "They don't know about the..." He trailed off and pointed at his head.

"All they know is it's a top secret mission and they can't even get into Castle unless one of us let's them in." Chuck nodded. "That part should be done in a few more days." She looked at him for a long moment, searchingly almost, and then she smirked a bit. "Did you really come over here to talk about my new job? While you're supposed to be on the clock at the Buy More?"

"How d'you know I'm not just on my break?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Narrowing her eyes, she leaned in a bit. "I'm supposed to be your girlfriend. You think I don't know when your breaks are? Come on."

"Okay, fine. I snuck out to come here. I wanted to." She smirked harder. "What?" he said, spreading his arms and grinning. "I can't come check out my best gal's new work digs?" She gave him an amused look. "Too much?" She shook her head and grinned. He wasn't going to be able to stall for much longer, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Big Mike realized the supervisor of the Nerd Herd was MIA. He dried his palms on his pants and dove right in, head first. So to speak.

"Actually, there, uh...is another reason. A small one." He brought his thumb and forefinger close together and held them up, knowing just how not-small it was now that it was here, on the edge of his lips. "Just somethin' I've been thinking about asking you."

"Okay. Shoot."

"Would you be interested in going out tonight? With me?" There. It was done. Well, not done. Done-ish. He'd done the hard part and now he just had to wait for her answer.

"Sure," she chirped.

Oh. That was… Oh.

"Need time away from Ellie and Awesome?"

Oh. _Oh._

"Um, nah," Chuck replied, clearing his throat.

"Morgan driving you crazy?"

"Nope."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Cover maintenance?"

"Negative."

She was staring at him now, and he couldn't read the look on her face. "Just want to hang out with your...friend?"

He shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to hold onto the boldness he was finally displaying. Because why couldn't he have this? Why couldn't they have this? If only for a short time, because then he'd tell her everything and...shit. He was grasping at his confidence and it was slipping through his fingers like smoke.

"I mean, if-if that's what you—It could be that if you want—If that's—" He stopped himself then. She had a tentative and slightly confused look on her face, eyebrow tilting up in the corner. This needed to happen and he needed to just be a damn grown up. He beat back the voice in his head that told him he wasn't good enough, that he'd never be good enough. Another voice was louder; one that was telling him that hiding things away would only make it worse. Not just his decision to join the NSA, but his feelings for her too. "You know what? No." He let out a long breath through pursed lips, pulling his hands out of his pockets, and he stepped in closer. "I don't want to just hang out with my friend. Not this time. This time, I want to take you out on a date. A real freaking date. Where we can go out somewhere and eat good food and...and maybe we can talk."

Her eyes widened a little and then she looked away. He could see a battle in her eyes, the way they flicked back and forth, the way she was swallowing, her fingers playing with the cute apron she wore over her white capris. "We can talk about whatever you want," he said quietly. "Literally anything. Whatever you feel comfortable with," he felt the need to add. "But just us. Enjoying a night out together."

Should he just tell her now? Take away this whole date thing and tell her now and give her the chance to absorb and think about it? Without cloaking it in a date? And then he silently cursed himself for even thinking that. This date wasn't a damn cloak. He wanted to give her this. He wanted them to have this. When he told her about the NSA, he wanted it to be outside of this hospital-esque frozen yogurt shop that the CIA built, away from the cameras and the Castle thing under their feet. Away from the spy stuff. Just them, in the real world, surrounded by real people. Both of them feeling comfortable enough to be their real selves. Where he could be totally candid about everything: his wants, his needs, his fears.

He moved closer still, forcing her to raise her eyes back to his. They were so blue what with the sunlight streaming in from the windows behind him. "Sarah...we nearly lost each other. Everything. On that roof top… That was real, Sarah. That was the real us and I want a chance to recapture that without...without a lifetime in a bunker and/or death hovering over the moment like a dark cloud. I think—I think I saw somethin' there. In you. That felt...something like...what I'm feeling. Maybe." She was blinking an awful lot as she looked away again, and when she looked back up at him, he thought he saw...fear, maybe. God, he wanted to shake her. But he also wanted her to say yes. Not to some cover date on which they'd most likely still have fun. But to this. A real date. With him. He was taking a step, damn it, and he wanted her to meet him halfway this time.

"Sarah, at any minute in this job something could happen to any of us. I know what we said; I know the pacts we made, the things we shook hands on. All of that is very important to me. But do you think maybe…? All I'm saying is, isn't it worth it to see if...? Don't we owe it to ourselves? Haven't we earned this? If only this one time?" She crossed her arms quickly, almost hugging herself, shifting her weight. But she kept her eyes on his this time. "I understand if you think it's a bad idea," he continued. He noticed she didn't correct him. "But I keep thinking, wouldn't it be nice to go on a date without aliases and spy gear and a mission?"

She was silent for at least twenty seconds straight and he thought a part of him might be slowly dying. And then...

"You're really doing this, aren't you?" she asked softly, a tinge of awe in her voice, in her face. Or maybe he just thought he saw it. "You're asking me out on a real date…"

"Yes I am," he replied with confidence he didn't even know he had.

"Chuck... I'm still a CIA agent, and while you're not going to a bunker, things are still the same. I'm still here to protect you. And you're still...an asset." Not anymore, he thought to himself. But God, she didn't know that yet. She would know it soon enough. He just had to get her to say yes to this first. "There are a hundred reasons why I shouldn't do that. Why _we_ shouldn't do that."

"I bet you I could think of _two_ hundred reasons why you should, why we should." She seemed almost a little amused at that, giving him a look that read, _Aren't you the confident one today?_

He wasn't sure if she meant to egg him on with that look, but she had.

"What do you have to lose?" he asked. Now the look on her face changed to, _Did you seriously just ask that?_ He winced. "Okay, maybe that question was a bit out of place. It's just that you haven't said no yet, and I'm thinking that probably means you're starting to think of some pretty good reasons for why you should say yes." He gave her a hopeful look, and she nibbled on her lip thoughtfully. It was a good sign. He kept going, just in case she needed an extra push. "If your higher-ups wanna make a stink, just play it like it's for cover, even though we'll know it isn't." The look that got him was pretty flat, but there was amusement under the tentativeness, the unsure way she twisted her lips to the side. "And just think...One day, you're gonna find yourself undercover in some place like Jakarta in a knife fight with some evil-doer, and in that exact moment, you're going to wish that you would've spent one...night of fun...real honest to goodness fun...with me." He swallowed. Had he said too much? Had he spiraled a little? Should he have maybe stopped after he asked the original question? Or after he said...God, any number of the things he'd just said to try to persuade her?

"Okay."

He couldn't believe his ears. He looked up at her and saw the shy grin there, the way she ducked her head. Her grin dimmed even as his own grin was growing on his face. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, obviously fighting to keep the grin from coming back. She nodded once, as if she was still thinking it over. But she said yes. She said yes. He was one step closer to making this all a reality.

"Tonight. Our first real date."

"Or our second first date," she chirped.

Chuck headed out of the store before he literally exploded, but turned to add, "No gunfight, I promise."

"Okay," she replied. Chuck smiled at her. He had a lot to do to prepare for tonight, but he thought he could swing this. He thought he could finally get them on the same page, and then...Well, they would go from there. No plans. No outlines.

* * *

 **A/N:** Stick around for the next part, hopefully soon! Please leave us a review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N:** David here. Some have referred to me as the fluff king. Today, we are all going to school and see exactly how little we all know about fluff. Find something to hold onto, because ain't none of us ready for this. Long live SC.

 **Disclaimer:** We do not own Chuck or its characters.

* * *

One of the waves she'd meticulously curled into her long blond hair was wonky. And it was pissing her off. She tried to re-curl it. She tried to wet it again, dry it, and then re-curl it. And she finally gave up and merely pulled some of her other hair over to cover it up as best she could.

And maybe she was getting too far up into her own head, stressing about her appearance to try to pull herself back out of it again. But it only distracted her momentarily. Because her mind kept wandering back to a place where she thought she might grab her phone and cancel this whole thing. He'd be so disappointed. She might be even more disappointed than him.

But as much as he was right about them having earned this night, a night in which they could have fun and be their real selves, just enjoy one another's company without covers or missions, that wasn't the way any of this worked. Just because you earned something, didn't mean you got it. That was life. That was this job. She knew that better than anybody, perhaps.

And then there was the fact that while he'd earned getting to sit at a table across from the woman he wanted, on a real date, without all of the spy shit, she wasn't quite so sure that she'd earned the right to sit across from the man she wanted. It was a quandary. He'd earned it; she hadn't.

But he wouldn't get what he'd earned and wanted if she wasn't there…

And that was maybe the thing that made her pick out this deep purple number that was stretchy and clingy in all the right places. He wanted her. He'd made it clear, in a way that was purely Chuck. Without the bedroom eyes, without the smirk, and without saying it outright.

Instead, it was a jumble of meaningful, warm, and somewhat heartbreaking things that made her feel wanted more acutely than any blatant come-ons ever had.

She studied herself in the mirror and smoothed her hands down her front, fixing the hem of the dress that stopped midway down her thighs. As she stepped into her heels, she glanced over at her drawer where she kept her S&W. Well, one of them. Her favorite one.

No missions, he'd said. No spy gear. Away from the CIA and the NSA. But could she really do that? She went to the drawer and slid it open, looking at her gun. And she took it out, holding it in her hand, staring down at it. It made her feel safe having it with her at all times.

And Chuck needed protection. That was still her highest priority. It was the reason why she was still even in the CIA. She would've been gone by now if it weren't for Operation Bartowski, if it weren't for the Intersect, and Bryce sending it to his old college friend.

And yet here she was going out on a date with Chuck Bartowski. Her asset.

She'd since decided against cancelling. It would hurt him too bad. It would throw him out of whack, affect his emotional and mental state, make the Intersect unusable. Rolling her eyes at herself, she admitted the real reason. She didn't call him to cancel because she wanted this.

Fuck it.

She wanted one damn night when she could just relax, eat food, and enjoy Chuck Bartowski for everything that he was. Without stifling her smile or laughter.

But she was definitely taking the gun. Tonight would be about having fun, but she still had her mission.

There was a knock on her door then and she took another deep breath, looking at her watch. He was right on time. Timeliness was a really good trait for a date to have, she thought to herself with a small smirk, and she went towards the door, preparing to stuff her gun in her bag.

And then she stopped, leaning her hip against the entryway table, looking down at the gun again.

He'd offhandedly said 'no gunfights' as he left, and she hadn't missed the flirtatious glint in his brown eyes when he'd said it. But she also wondered if...if she could really be her full self if she felt the weight of the gun in her bag. Her gun was synonymous with the spy life. And escaping the spy life was what this one night was about, wasn't it?

She put the gun on the table, took a deep breath, settled herself, shut her eyes for a second, and opened them again, fixing a happy look on her face. It wasn't a difficult thing to do, especially once she opened the door and found Chuck on the other side.

His grin stretched over his face and she grinned back. "Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"You ready to go?" he asked and she smiled, nodding, leaving her room behind. Leaving her gun behind. Leaving the spy life behind.

Just for one night.

}o{

"You know, what would be _really_ cool is if we could also leave the Buy More life behind for tonight, along with the spy life. But unfortunately, I don't have a car of my own because I'm a loser, so we're driving to get dinner for our real date in a car that has 'Nerd Herd' slapped on the side of it in really, really big letters."

Sarah snorted, shaking her head at him and giving him a warning look. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"You're not a loser, Chuck. We're not doing that tonight. You aren't going to spend our real date dunking on yourself."

That made him laugh and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Sorry," he said, holding a hand up and smothering his laugh a bit. "Dunking on myself. That was legendary, Sarah Walker."

She giggled, trying not to let him see her blush. Sure, she was lowering some of the walls for tonight, but she wasn't letting him see everything. And of course, that thought made her blush harder. Her brain hadn't gotten the memo.

"But you're right," he amended with a nod. "That's not fun at all and tonight is about fun!"

"Let's not go overboard with this fun thing, okay, Chuck? Like, if a ball pit is anywhere in your itinerary for tonight, just cross that of the list right now." She grinned at how hard he laughed.

"Damn it." He took one hand off the steering wheel and pretending to strike something off of a list. "Ball pit's a no go. Well, that just leaves the bouncy castle and the clown, I guess."

"Eww!" Sarah cracked up, shivering in spite of the joke. "That's awful."

"I know," he said. "I didn't even like that shit when I was a kid. I don't mean the bouncy castles, I mean the clowns. Just to...make myself clear. Bouncy castles were the shit."

Sarah just smiled at him and shrugged, looking forward.

"What?" he prompted. And maybe she should keep a few walls up. At least a little bit. Because he'd seen right through her just then. And in the darkness of the car, too.

"Hm? Oh. Nothing." She could see by the look he sent her that he'd seen right through her again and she sighed. "It's...stupid."

"Uh, I'm sure it's not. You don't _do_ stupid, Agent—Wait. Wait, wait." She'd sent him a critical look at that. "Sorry. _Sarah_ Walker. Miss Sarah Walker. You don't do stupid. Just tell me."

She felt herself smiling a little at his kindness. And then she shrugged. "Ball pits, bouncy castles… I didn't really...do that, as a kid."

"What? No birthday parties? No Chuck E. Cheese?"

"Uh, no." She ducked her head shyly and played with the clip on her purse. "I was never stationary long enough to get invited to birthday parties, believe it or not. So no bouncy castles. No Chuck E. Cheese ball pits."

"I see." He nodded quietly, and she could see there was a lot going through his head as he stopped at a red light. "Well, think of it as kind of a positive, you know? Those things were probably crawling with germs and bacteria. That's what you missed out on."

Sarah chuckled, not expecting that, and she shook her head at him. "You're so weird."

"Hey, I don't get to dunk on myself, but _you_ get to dunk on me? What's that about?" he teased.

"I didn't say I don't like it," she answered, accidentally letting him hear the warm honey dripping from her voice. Or maybe she hadn't just flirted accidentally. Maybe she'd done it on purpose. Either way, she'd done it.

Chuck seemed to not know what to say to that. He just stared.

"Green light."

"Oh! Right, right. Green means go. Yes." He cleared his throat and kept driving. But she'd thrown him off, she could see. And she had to admit, she was having fun already. "Well, if you like weird so much, I'm just gonna have to be extra weird tonight. So prepare yourself." He made a face like he'd just said the stupidest thing ever. "Or not. Just kidding. See? I'm not even trying and here comes the weird. Like a tidal wave."

She laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, take some deep breaths, Chuck."

He just shook his head and chuckled, blushing. "You wanted real Chuck, you're getting real Chuck."

Sarah watched him for a few moments, not saying anything, just taking him in. Real Chuck. She knew full well that he gave her real Chuck most of the time. If not all of the time. There weren't a lot of people in the world who were like that, she knew. Fully themselves.

"Good," she said quietly. "I will try to respond in kind. As best I can."

He was silent for a few moments as he drove them through the streets of Downtown LA. And then he glanced at her. "I appreciate that. A lot. And don't worry, I do not expect you to...Well, I have no expectations. What I mean to say is...be as much yourself as...you need to be? I'm not making sense."

She squeezed his arm, staring at him with a warm smile. "I think I get what you're saying. And thank you."

"Oh, good. That makes one of us." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I just want you to feel comfortable and...I dunno, safe. Tonight. I don't want ya to feel like you have to be anyone other than who you wanna be. Or do anything you don't wanna do. No wigs, no masks, no...accents."

She raised her eyebrows. "Not even zee Sveeedish accent?"

He barked out a laugh and pulled into a parking structure. "You are seriously so charming when you're a dork. I don't even know what to do with myself."

She smacked his arm and cracked up. "Shut up. I am no dork."

"Ehhh, kinda. Just a little. Sometimes."

"Now who's dunking on whom?" she giggled.

"I didn't say I don't like it."

They shared a look and she drawled, "Touché."

Chuck parked and turned off the Herder, but when she moved to open the passenger door and get out, he grabbed her arm, surprising her. "No, no. Wait, wait, wait, wait waitwaitwait…" He scrambled out of the car, shut his door, and sprinted around to her side, opening her door for her and leaning down with his hand outstretched towards her. "Sorry. I know this is somewhat old-fashioned. And obviously I know you can open your own door and handle those killer sexy heels like a boss because you have the strength of an elephant and the grace of a swan, but I wanted to do something for you that was real date-ish. So here we are."

Sarah laughed and took his hand, letting him help her out of the car and shut her door for her as she shifted out of the way. "I'll let you off with a warning."

He straightened to his full height, then glanced around, first to the right, then to the left. "I don't believe I received any warning…"

Sarah wordlessly stepped closer to him, their fronts nearly brushing, and she moved to her tiptoes, giving him heavy-lidded eyes. He froze, going perfectly rigid. And then she reached up and tugged on one of the curls that escaped his attempt at controlling his hair with product.

"Ow!"

She moved away from him, laughing. "Well? Where's this great place you wanted me to try then?"

"I'm sufficiently warned, I think," he murmured, wincing as he rubbed his head where she'd pulled his head, but grinning wildly at her all the same. He walked up to her and gestured out of the structure with a flick of his head. "Follow me, miss."

She wasn't sure if it was habit because of their cover, or if it was habit because she wanted the physical connection with him, because those two things seemed to go hand in hand at this point, but she wrapped her hands around his arm nearest her and moved in close, walking beside him down the sidewalk. "It's beautiful out tonight," she murmured.

" _You're_ beautiful out tonight," he shot back immediately.

Sarah laughed and shook her head. "Wow. Okay. Thanks. Really coming in hot with the compliments, huh?"

"Oh, the hottest." That made her laugh again. "And come on, isn't that what you do on real dates? Compliment each other? I mean, it's not the _only_ thing obviously. But it's...a thing. Right?" He shrugged. "Unless I've been doing this wrong since my first ever date. Her name was Ashley Wong. We were fourteen. And I think I might've cried at one point?"

Sarah held onto him tighter and rocked forward with laughter. "Why did you cry?"

"I don't even remember at this point. I think she probably made fun of Star Wars or something." He cracked up with her as they continued the stroll to their destination. She was usually annoyed by how hard it was to park in LA, especially downtown. But at the moment, she was okay with it. "But the important part of my even bringing that up is that I told her I really liked her headband."

"Oh. My God." She feigned an impressed look.

"I know, right? Such a charmer."

"Marriage material."

He threw his head back in laughter and Sarah used the distraction to ponder exactly what real dates were supposed to be like. Were they really supposed to be like anything? Was she putting weird expectations onto herself, onto this date, where she shouldn't be? It was just that she didn't know. She'd never been on a date like this. Besides the trip to the skating rink Chuck had set-up… But that didn't count. It had been a mission. Well, she thought it was a mission; he'd made her think it was a mission. So it didn't count.

Sarah wondered if real dates included pulling the other person into a narrow alley and kissing them. If he wanted the version of Sarah Walker without the walls she'd erected around herself, that was what that Sarah wanted to do at the moment. Lipstick be damned.

She didn't. She just squeezed his arm and grinned up at him, waiting for his laughter to die down. "Hey, do real dates include street tacos?" He sent her a doubtful look as they passed a street taco vendor on the sidewalk. " _Can_ they include street tacos?"

He chuckled. "No. At least not this one. Or, I guess it could. If you really want to."

Shaking her head, she beamed. "No, I'm kidding. Take me to wherever it is you planned to take me."

"We are here! Best dumplings in LA." They stopped at the door of a restaurant that touted "Asian cousine" on the window and he opened the door for her. "Trust."

"Oh, I do." She winked.

They were seated immediately, which was kind of disconcerting, Sarah thought. How at this time of the night did a place that apparently had the "best dumplings in LA" not have every table full? She'd expect at least a ten minute wait for a table.

Chuck must have read the dubious look on her face because he wrapped his fingers around her hand and squeezed gently. "Trust me," he said quietly. She did.

He ran through a list of the things he knew were good and let her pick from there, then placed the order for both of them.

"Okay, I have a serious question."

She raised her eyebrow. "You really like asking serious questions on dates, don't you?"

"Are you referring to our first first date?" Giggling, she nodded. "I guess I do, yeah. That okay?"

"Sure," she said, smiling, sipping her water. "Go right ahead."

"Palm trees. Necessary? Or pointless?"

Sarah giggled, shaking her head. "God. You always do this."

"I know. I'm annoying. I legit wanna hear your opinion on this. I've asked other people before but there's no one's opinion I care about more than yours so…" That slow smile that wrinkled his nose and the corners of his eyes stretched over his face and she thought he must've been so pleased with himself. She couldn't blame him much. She was pleased with him, too. She didn't think anyone had ever said anything quite so sweet to her in her entire life.

And she thought that for the rest of her existence in this world, however long that was, whoever walked in and out of it, she would always remember the way Chuck Bartowski looked in this moment as he told her that he cared about her opinion more than he cared about anyone else's. It didn't matter how many people called her pretty. This right here would always make her heart race. God, and he'd asked a question about freaking trees. How was he even real? And then she thought no one had ever been quite this real, no one would ever be—

"...Sarah?"

She shook herself a little. "Well, you asked me a really difficult question," she explained, "and I had to think about it."

"Oh, fair enough. Fair enough," he assented with a nod. They smiled at each other over their drinks. But he kept staring expectantly.

"You're really making me answer this…"

"I'm really making you answer this. Yes."

Sarah shook her head and then sighed and nodded. "Okay, well...I think labeling any part of nature as 'pointless' is destructive and illogical. Everything in nature serves a purpose."

He looked at her with a quiet smile on his face. "Okay. I respect your answer. It's a good one. What do you say to the people who argue that palm trees—at least our trees here in SoCal—don't provide any edible fruit, _and_ also don't provide appropriate levels of shade?"

"That's dumb. Just because humans don't get anything out of this tree, doesn't mean there aren't other creatures who find them useful. Birds, other creatures, have use for palm trees. Maybe not everything is about the human species all the time," she said, shrugging. "We act like our Earth exists just to fulfill our needs and our needs alone but that's conceited and stupid."

He let out a chuckle and disarmed her with a deeply warm smile. "I like your answer a lot. I'm going to start saying that when people from Colorado or a Carolina or something start saying shit about our palm trees." She giggled and shook her head. "See? This is why I value your opinion so much."

"Because I get heated over human arrogance?" she asked.

"I mean, I'll be real with you. I'm super into that." She raised her eyebrow at him, not sure what to say to that. "But also, you don't pull punches. And also, I just like you a lot in general. So there ya go."

She wondered if the whole date was going to be like this, if Chuck was going to spend all night saying things that made her chest flood with warmth. If that was his plan, she was going to have to stick her head under the faucet in the bathroom and run cold water onto it more than once. Which was weird but...apparently she liked weird. She also imagined a different way this night could potentially end. She was going to let herself imagine. And, she thought, she probably wouldn't stop herself if that ended up being where this night headed.

She would. Of course she would stop herself. But maybe...maybe she wouldn't.

She tried to shove the confusing contradictions out of her head. "I like you too, Chuck. But...you know that. At least I hope you do," she admitted quietly, meeting his gaze over her drink before taking a slow sip.

"I would not have marched into your yogurt shop like a man on a mission today to ask you out on a date if I didn't know that at least on some level," he said, chuckling.

"Is that what a man on a mission looks like? Terrified?"

"What?!" She laughed at his affronted look, the way he banged on the tabletop with his open palm. "I was not terrified!" He laughed as well. "Oh my God. How dare you? I was cool and collected, not to mention super smooth. I Can't Believe It's Not Butter smooth. Okay?"

"Is that smooth? Okay." She giggled and leaned in. "I'm kidding. You were very brave. Like a knight on his way to slay a dragon."

"Okay, that's enough," he drawled, snorting and shaking his head, half embarrassed and half amused, she thought. He was so much fun to tease, not because he didn't let it get under his skin the way Bryce and her dad did, but because he seemed to almost enjoy it when she did it. On the rare occasion she'd tried to tease Bryce, he hadn't taken it as well. She'd even gotten the silent treatment once. It was the same story with her dad. There was a certain level of ego and machismo that this man sitting in front of her simply seemed not to have. "And anyway, it isn't easy for me to ask...any ol' girl out on a date, let alone you. So go easy on me."

She liked the way the good-natured smile on his face looked. It was so genuine. She smiled back at him. "You're right. And I gotta hand it to ya. You really gave the rules a big ol' middle finger asking me out on a date. Your handler."

"Because I don't see you as my handler, Sarah."

Sarah propped her chin on her palm and leaned her elbow on the table. "You don't?" He shook his head. "What do you see me as?"

"A girl who, 'til just recently, made pretty good corndogs...annnnd also kicked bad guy ass on the side, while maintaining a kind and compassionate interior, and who managed to keep me from going off the deep end more times than I could count in the last couple of months. Not because it was her job, but because that's just...who she is." He shrugged as if he hadn't just said...that.

She just barely caught herself gaping and smiled down at the folded napkin in front of her. "Oh."

Inwardly rolling her eyes at herself, she wondered how that was really the only thing she could think to say to his incredibly meaningful words about her. "You know, that is...sort of my job. I mean, the…" She leaned in close and lowered her voice. "The Intersect wouldn't work too great if you went off the deep end, Chuck."

"Mhm. Keep telling yourself that, Sarah."

Sarah glared, but she didn't have it in her to hold it, and it broke into a soft snort and smirk. "Fine. Whatever. Believe what you wanna believe, nerd."

"Oh, I will. Know why? That's my whole life motto." He stretched his arms out to the sides in a _this is me, take it or leave it_ sort of way and she giggled, watching as their food finally arrived.

She dug in after the waiter left and let out a long, "Mmmmmmm!" She glanced up at him, impressed. "I love noodles. I take noodles very seriously. That's something about me I think you should know."

"Noted." He tapped his temple, then dug into his own noodles.

"These are really fuckin' good noodles, Chuck. Mmmm." She shoveled more into her mouth and just let herself savor it for a few minutes. Los Angeles really was so good at food, she decided. And her current date was good at finding said food.

"My thing with these noodles is—hear me out—they have to be a little al dente, know what I mean? Not like...super hard al dente. But just a little harder than you'd cook, say, spaghetti. And the way the noodles just like...sop up the spices like they're little stringy sponges. Om nom nom."

Sarah giggled happily. "You're a goof."

"A goof who knows his shit," he corrected.

She nodded solemnly in agreement. "A goof who knows his shit. Yes." Then she fixed him with a long look and shrugged. She was going to do this because...well, fuck it. "I've never seen you wear that color before."

He stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows, swallowing slowly. "Oh. Uh...yeah." He glanced down at his shirt and tugged at it. "It's...yeah. I don't know. With my coloring, dark tends to...ahem. I always wear that white Nerd Herd button-up, you know, and it makes me look different than when I wear dark colors."

"You look good in dark blue."

He swallowed again and smiled a little. "Thanks. You doing the date complimenting thing?" She giggled. "Well, thanks. I, um, just grabbed this outta the closet and put it on." She had a feeling that wasn't the case, what with the way he'd gone out of his way to tell her that. Then he winced and shook his head. "That's a total lie. I tried on seven different shirts and was this close to making Ellie get up off the couch after her twelve hour shift to help me." She laughed, wondering if there was a word for how charmed she was by his incredibly disarming honesty. "However, I prevailed without bothering my sister. So...points for Chuck."

"Major points for Chuck." She giggled. And maybe it was a character failing, but she wasn't nearly as confident in admitting how many different outfits she'd tried on before settling on this dress, so she kept her mouth shut on that. "And for the record, you can wear dark button-ups like that outside of work whenever you want. That isn't cover girlfriend talking, either. That's first date real Sarah talking."

Chuck was still trying to clear his air passage when the rest of their food came. She pretended she wasn't quite noticing him guzzle water, thanking their waiter. And when he finally got back to normal, she bit into a dumpling and groaned again. "This food is really good. How'd you hear about this place, anyway?"

Chuck shoved a dumpling in his mouth with his chopsticks and sat up straighter. "Morgan, as a matter of fact." Sarah raised her eyebrows. "The man has a blackbelt in dumplings. I trust any recommendation he gives me for food items less than ten dollars."

The way he just admitted that… He wasn't splurging on some insanely fancy expensive restaurant that was fifty dollars a plate. Instead, he chose someplace Morgan recommended, someplace with good food, less crowded, more laidback. It was...very different from what she expected from grown men. And not exactly in a bad way.

But she still gave him a look, stopping her chewing for the time being. "So our first date is a Morgan recommendation?" she asked.

"Wowwww! Wow, Sarah, okay. No faith in the little bearded man, huh?" She giggled as he finished chewing and swallowed. "I feel like you need to know that Morgan has always been supportive of our fake relationship. Right from the very beginning."

Sarah felt something building in the way he'd just phrased that. She felt it in her lower stomach. And she slowly lifted her eyes from the bowl she held in her hand to look right at him. "Everybody's been supportive of our fake relationship. Except for Harry Tang. But I don't think he's supportive of anything positive."

He chuckled. "Uh, no. But I don't—I just mean, you know. Morgan's never found it remotely unbelievable that a guy like me could be dating a…" He cleared his throat as she oh so delicately lifted noodles from her bowl with her chopsticks and let them drop into her mouth, keeping her gaze on him. He squirmed uncomfortably, then got a bit of a look on his face, like he maybe knew what she was doing, eating her noodles like that. "You know." He dug into his food again.

Sarah glanced up at him, picking at her noodles nonchalantly with her chopsticks. "What?"

She knew what. She absolutely knew what. But the delicious food and the warmth that had settled between them, the way things felt so comfortable in this moment, had overtaken her. And she was feeling a little mischievous. Flirtatious even.

Chuck chewed for a second. "Oh." He shrugged. "You know. You."

As if that explained everything. She knew what he was getting at. And while it wasn't exactly dunking on himself, at least not blatantly, she didn't appreciate the implication that they were in different leagues. It was bullshit. He couldn't even begin to understand just how bullshit it was.

She picked up some noodles from her bowl, holding it close to her face, leaning her elbows on the table with a bit of a flirty head tilt. "What about me?" she prompted, slowly sticking the noodles in her mouth. Her tongue darted out to pull a stray noodle back between her lips and she chewed, her lips pursed in a bit of a smirk.

He sniffed in amusement, grinning as he looked down at his own bowl. And then he lifted his gaze to hers and sat up straighter. "You're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

She gave a cute one shoulder shrug, tilting her head, smiling at him, and finally putting her bowl down.

"Wow," he drawled. "Okay. Fine. All right. We'll play it your way." She gave him an amused, closed-mouth grin. "A girl like you," he said, and there was something in his tone, a sense of gravity, that made her lose the teasing smile as she looked up at him and just watched closely.

Warmth spread through her at the way his...everything...just softened. His eyes, his mouth, his posture...the way his eyebrows tilted just the right way.

"Or more appropriately, a woman like you." The warmth became something different just as quickly, and she lowered her chin slightly, looking up through her eyelashes just a bit. "A woman like you who can kick the ass of everyone in this joint," he said, pausing as he swallowed, setting his bowl down and just looking at her, "and a smart woman, at that. Brilliant, even. And easily the coolest person I have ever met," he chuckled a bit, seemingly in awe of her, and she felt like she was sitting directly in the middle of a bonfire or something, the flames licking at her body. "Not to mention, funny. Warm. Compassionate...but I already said that before." He had and she didn't care. She was losing her footing fast. "And…" He took a deep breath, his features somehow getting even softer, a dreamlike look coming over his handsome face as he took her in. "...extremely beautiful," he breathed, shaking his head in awe. "And-And you can stop me anytime," he chuckled, making her duck her head, beaming, blushing, feeling how shy she probably seemed at the moment and not really minding, "with the compliments, if they're becoming, you know—"

"No," she interrupted, her own voice sounding breathless as she half-laughed to try to disguise it. "No, Chuck. That was, uh...very sweet." She lifted her eyes to his and smiled gratefully. It felt like it wasn't enough even as she said it, but she couldn't let him hear or see what his words had really meant to her.

But he pulled his lips back between his teeth and narrowed his eyes, then winced a bit. "Sweet. Golly gee. Thanks for makin' me feel like I'm eight."

She giggled, blushing again. She didn't know what else to say, how else to express herself. Genuinely, she was at a loss. So she just shrugged it off and kept smiling, distracting herself by playing with her food. "Well, you're not so bad yourself."

"Please." He gave a faux-confident shrug and joked, "I'm fantastic."

Sarah heard the tone in his voice. It was that self-deprecating humor of his, jokingly patting himself on the back. She dropped all pretenses, looked him right in his face, and said with utmost sincerity, "Yeah. You are."

She didn't break his gaze even as his teasing smile dimmed and he just gazed at her. _Bulls-eye._ He finished chewing and swallowed, a slow smile building on his face. _That_ slow smile that genuinely sent an ache of longing through her. She nodded at him just once, so he knew she meant it. He'd probably be scared if he knew just how much she meant it. She was scared. She was damn scared.

Because she had to, she finally looked away and grabbed her water, taking a sip. She needed to do something as she felt that soft gaze on her. She was supposed to last an entire night with this happening? And yet, it felt so good. So natural and real.

He finally cleared his throat quietly. "What would Casey think if he walked into this restaurant right now?" he asked.

She snorted. "It would probably kill him." Then she shrugged. "Realistically, he'd have some stupid innuendo shit he'd say using condiments or something."

Chuck laughed as she picked up her tea and took a careful sip now that it had cooled enough to drink. "You know? You're probably right about that. He's unnervingly good at it."

"Don't give him that much credit, Chuck." She smirked. "Then again, someday all of this is gonna end. This operation. The Intersect. And he's going to miss having targets for his weird peanut butter and chocolate metaphors."

"He's gonna miss us in general, I think," he responded, pushing his empty bowl away from him and taking a drink.

"We all make a pretty good team. Doubt he'll ever find anything this good again," she drawled, leaning her elbows on the table again and moving a bit closer. "But that's been put off again anyway," she said. "In spite of us getting the cipher, the next Intersect almost completed, they're not letting you go just yet."

She felt the bitterness in the way she said it, she heard it dripping from each word.

"Yeah. Well." Something came over his face then. Regret? Guilt? And then she saw his brow furrow, as if in determination. And she was struck again by the way this man seemed to always make the best of whatever situation he was put into. She wanted to hug him so tight and so long that her arms fell off. "I feel like...it's important to...you know, if I can still be of use to you guys, if I can help protect innocent people, it's...my duty to do that. It's my duty to help you. I-I want to help you, Sarah."

Sarah couldn't help shaking her head in awe at him, smiling quietly. "You're really something else, Chuck. You know that? You make the best out of the worst circumstances."

"It could be a lot worse," he said as the waiter came to clear their plates and bring the check. He brought them some fortune cookies as well and she unconsciously reached out to snag one of them. "I mean, I'm sitting here with you right now. On a real date with an incredible person." She smiled at that, ducking her head a little and playing with the cookie between her fingers. "I'm all right with this."

"So am I." She felt the cookie crack between her fingers and she glanced down, surprised, but playing it off like she'd meant to break open the cookie and read her fortune, instead of what had really happened. She'd unconsciously squeezed it between her fingers as she met Chuck's gaze for too long. He was getting to her in a big way. In a bad way.

She was still his handler. The squirming she was having to do in her seat was not appropriate. Neither were most of the feelings she experienced around him, though. And it had been going on for a while, hadn't it?

Sarah pulled her fortune out and read it. It said something about how she brought light to the people in her life. Not really a _fortune_ , was it?

"So what's it say? Something about your future? Tell you if you'll ever get out of Burbank or if you're stuck with me forever?" He leaned his elbows on the table jauntily. And she noticed he wasn't seeming like he'd be opening his own cookie.

"It's actually our next mission," she said with a straight face.

The humor in his features dropped and he gaped. "Wait. What? Really?"

"No," she said, making a face. He snorted and rolled his eyes, at her or at himself, she wasn't sure. "Not really. I...don't really know what the future is going to be. Same thing we're doing now I assume. Don't know what the other Intersect is going to bring, or how it will change things, if it even does. I haven't gotten any details."

And she realized glumly that they'd said they wouldn't bring spy stuff to this real date and here they were doing it anyway. It was a freaking plague sometimes, the spy life.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I'm still your handler, you're still my asset. I'm here to protect you until further notice. This date aside." She lifted her shoulders and gazed at him.

"This date aside? Are you not protecting me right now? Am I in danger?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Haaa," she drawled sarcastically. He grinned, his nose wrinkling. They'd somehow ended up leaning even closer, though she didn't really notice. "I'm definitely not supposed to be here, doing this. Especially not anything...real."

"But this is real."

She paused, squirming a little, but still looking at him. "Yeah."

"We're real. Alive. Here."

"Yes to all three things," she said slowly, her voice crackling. "But that doesn't change the fact that I could get into some trouble agreeing to this tonight. If they found out." But she wasn't budging. And he had to know that. She could see it in his face.

"What kind o' trouble are we talkin' here?"

"They could take me off of this mission altogether. Give me a new cover and most likely send me as far away from here as possible." She felt a pain stab through her chest at the thought of that happening. The stakes were high with this date, and she probably should've put more thought into agreeing to come out with him tonight. But God, she wanted this so bad it hurt.

She missed the look on his face as she played with a shard of the fortune cookie, not wanting him to see the abject sadness that suddenly arose in her. "What if they didn't?" he asked in a quiet, deep voice.

Sarah looked at him again. "Chuck, a CIA officer doesn't get to choose. Especially when she gets in trouble for being compromised by her asset."

"Does this count as you being compromised?" he asked, his voice still deep. It had been way too long since a man had spoken to her like this, and yet this had a lot more power than anything she could recall from before Chuck Bartowski.

"Yes," she said immediately. And she realized belatedly how that sounded, so she added, "To them."

Chuck swallowed, and this time she did notice how much closer he was leaning, they were both leaning. "I see. Y-You know, I've still got quite a bit to offer you." She felt a twinge behind her bellybutton. "The CIA, NSA." Thank God he'd clarified, but her body was having a hard time moving on from that first part. "I've got a lot of secrets still lodged in my head. The Lindberg baby...the formula for new coke..."

They were very close now, inches away. But she wasn't moving, either closer or further away. "Yeah? Well...that's why I'm here, isn't it? To protect those secrets...you."

She noticed acutely how his tongue snuck out to wet his lips before disappearing again. Oh, damn it.

"And...if that barrier was removed?" She raised an eyebrow slowly. "If you weren't my handler anymore? Would they still consider this...you...compromised?"

"I don't know." She couldn't breathe. "I...guess not. Maybe not." She paused. "What are you getting at, Chuck?" Sarah was aware of the way her eyes kept dropping to his lips. He had to see it, he had to know, because he was doing the same thing to hers. She could feel it. It was going to happen. They were going to do this, seriously. She should stop it. She had to stop it.

"Something I've been wanting, Sarah...for a long time."

This was it. She was going to do it. She was going to lean in and kiss him. Her muscles twitched to do it. To lean forward, just a few inches…

But then she saw something overcome him, a reluctance and frustration that cascaded over his features. And he brought his hands up to cover his forehead for a second, dragging them over his face and planting his palms on the tabletop.

Sarah froze. "What? What is it, Chuck? Did you—" She leaned in. "Did you flash?"

"No," he muttered, miserably. Well, if he didn't flash… Why? Why hadn't he gone through with it? Why hadn't he kissed her when they were both so clearly ready for it in that moment? Why'd he burst the bubble they were in, damn it?

"Sarah, I need to tell you something. I need you to know about something I've done."

What?

"Something...you've done?"

"I made a choice. And I need you to know about it before we…" He huffed. "I mean before anything else happens. I need you in on this. I've... _needed_ you in on this, and the opportunity just never… I should've. I just didn't. Couldn't. I didn't want to… I don't know."

She felt the need that had been coursing through her dissipate suddenly, and it was replaced by an unpleasant tingling in her nerve-endings instead. "What are you talking about? What choice?"

A steely look came over him, one of resolve, determination. It was harder than anything she'd ever seen on his face before. It made her unsettled. "I was given...the choice...General Beckman gave me a choice, Sarah. She asked me to join the NSA, to let them train me, bring me into the fold. ...I accepted."

The chair she sat on felt like it had been yanked out from under her and she was falling.

Falling.

With no ground in sight.

* * *

 **A/N:** PPPPHHHEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW (tips over) ... That is a literal note from our google doc where we write and I don't know which of us wrote it but it felt appropriate to just paste it here. -SC

Send us reviews. Next chapter coming soon. Thanks for reading!

-SC and DC


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing. It means a lot. Seriously.

 **Disclaimer:** We make not one penny off of this, but reviews make us happy.

* * *

Rage. Betrayal. It sat in her gut like an anvil. There was a burning in her chest, a stinging in her eyes. The muscles in her shoulders, back, and arms felt like a jumble of ropes twisted together, being yanked tightly. And the worst part of it was the embarrassment, the humiliation.

"You...accepted?" she asked, slowly, her voice quiet. Some might say dangerous.

She wasn't sure if she'd heard right. Maybe she hadn't. He didn't say anything, just a slow nod.

"The NSA? ...The NSA… You're…"

"I'm going to train to be a spy. Like you. Like Casey." He huffed. "I-I didn't-"

"When? And what in the hell were you thinking?" she asked, her jaw clenching. Tens of thousands of things were rocketing through her brain, the horrible fear that she'd been lied to creeping up to the forefront of her mind.

"I…" But then he stopped. He didn't continue.

Her head snapped up to ask him again, to force him to continue. She might even reach over the table and shake him. But then she saw his eyes go blank, his eyelids fluttering. Fear was on his face then, and it wasn't fear at her wrath-a wrath that was building the more what he'd just told her settled in her gut. The absolute gall of his decision, the lack of foresight, the dangerous, egotistical… But then it dawned on her what Chuck was doing, his gaze moving back and forth, settling on people behind her, over her shoulder.

He slammed his hands on the table and held on, lowering his chin to his chest, his whole body tense.

"What?" she snapped. "What's going on?"

A shiver went through him. "Why? No, no, no, no...Not now… Sarah…"

"Did you just flash? Are you flashing?" she whispered hoarsely as she leaned close.

"Y-Yeah, we…" His lifted his gaze to hers. "Sarah, we're surrounded."

She wanted to flip a fucking table. Right now? Really?

The gig seemed to be up, too. Because every single person in the restaurant-this restaurant that had seemed so strangely empty for this time of night, with its excellent noodles and dumplings-looked over at them and slowly rose to their feet, guns coming up from under their napkins, out from behind their aprons…

As a few of them stepped closer to their table, Chuck sat up straighter and caught her eye. "Sarah, you have your gun, right?" he breathed so only she could hear him.

"Nope," she said through gritted teeth, trying to do a quick headcount. God, there were at least thirteen people in here. That was too many.

"What?" he snapped. "Why not?"

Oh, he definitely didn't want to pull this shit with her right now. "Because you don't bring a gun on a real date," she hissed through her teeth, leaning forward, fire practically shooting out of her eyes. He paled at that.

And now she was realizing, as an extremely massive figure moved out from the back of the restaurant to approach their table, that Chuck's "real date" had been set up like this on purpose. He'd brought her out on the date with the purpose of dropping this bombshell she had yet to fully understand on her. She could strangle him. Reeling her in, tricking her so she'd let herself be reeled in, and then BAM!

He was going to train to be a spy. It didn't even make any God damn sense. He wasn't making sense. There was no logical reason. Did he want to die?

"Hello again, Chuck."

Sarah diverted her gaze, her brow furrowed with a sense of betrayal, from Chuck to look up at the hulking wall standing beside their table. "And you are?" she asked. She didn't care how big he was; she was ready to cut a bitch and if he wanted to be first, so be it.

"My name is Mister Colt," the man announced. Then he turned to Chuck. "And I need you to come with me."

Like fuck he was taking Chuck out of this restaurant. She still had some shit to say to the fucking nerd. He had some things he damn well had better say to her. An explanation for why in the hell he was joining the NS-fucking-A, for one.

"What makes you think we're going anywhere with you?" she asked, trying to keep her temper at bay.

"'Cause I assume you find me imposing. Don't worry, be honest. I'm going for imposing."

She had no patience for guys with catchy one-liners. Chuck was a guy with catchy one-liners, sometimes. She hated catchy one-liners. Sure, she'd liked them before. Or maybe just because he'd said them. But right now she wanted to push catchy one-liners off a damn cliff and watch as they were dashed on the rocks below, a bloody mess.

"Mission accomplished." Chuck gulped and glanced helplessly at Sarah. She just glared back at him, then glanced around the place. He seriously thought he wanted to be a spy and he had the nerve to look to her to get them out of this? What happened to Mr. I Want to Be A Spy? Mr. I Was Apparently Talking Out of My Ass When I Said I Wanted a Normal Life?

"Well, I'll tell you what. The people that hired me... give me the heebie-jeebies."

Go fuck yourself, Wall Man, she wanted to say. But instead she was looking for a way out. She'd save this jack-ass again, but if he wanted to be a spy so bad, he could save his own damn ass after this. Because she was done.

"You know, when you put it in context like that, I-I…"

"Let's go," Colt said, snapping his fingers at the man behind him. "We'll take care of the check."

Sarah slowly shifted her hand towards the chopsticks she left propped on her dumpling plate, moving her hair with the other hand to distract anyone who might be looking. She sent Chuck a look and he must've picked up on it because he dove right in on his bizarre rambling to throw Colt off.

"Um, you know, are you sure?" Colt turned to look at him in confusion. "The moo goo gai pan is very expensive here, so we could probably go Dutch or something. How much do bad guys normally tip?"

As he got out his last line, Sarah curled her fingers around the chopsticks and leapt to her feet, swinging the sticks at Colt's neck. But he caught her by her wrist, moving way faster than anyone his size had any right to move. She brought her left fist around to crack into his skull, but he slammed his forearm against her bicep to keep her from making contact. And just like that, he had her neck pinched between his fingers. She cried out in pain, knowing she was just one move away from being killed. He just had to squeeze a little harder…

She froze as she heard Chuck's, "Sarah!"

"Move and she dies," Colt warned through a clenched jaw. Chuck sat back down in his seat heavily, fear in his eyes as he met her gaze.

There was a beeping sound then, and she glanced down at Chuck's wrist. Casey. Oh, thank God…

"What is that?" Colt asked.

She smirked. "It's a homing device."

Chuck spun to look out the window then and she shifted in a stunned Colt's grip to follow his gaze. "Is that a Crown Victoria?" Chuck asked.

Oh, shit.

"MOVE!" she yelled, smacking Colt to get out of his grip and diving out of the way. Before she could, she felt a pair of arms half-lift her and lunge with her behind some tables as she heard the loud, terrifying crash of the car slamming through the front windows and smashing into the front counter.

Sarah coughed and realized who was half lying on top of her, who'd bodily hefted her out of the way of Casey's grand entrance.

"Hey! Somebody order drive-thru?" Casey snarked. The fucking one-liners.

"Get off!" she snapped at Chuck, pushing at him. "Get up. Come on!" She clambered up to her feet and tossed him in the direction of the car. "Get in the car!"

They both dove into the front of the Crown Victoria. "CASEY, DRIVE!" she barked as she watched Colt crack his fist into the NSA agent's face. Luckily, Casey fell right back into the driver's seat, moved his legs under the wheel, slammed his door, and backed out of the restaurant as Chuck yelled, "GO, GO, GO, GO!"

As Casey spun his car in the middle of the street and stepped on the gas, she heard the sickening sound of bullets pounding into the body of the vehicle. She grabbed Chuck by his head and yanked him down with her as Casey finally got them clear of Colt's miniature army.

Chuck yelled when she let go of him and sat up again. He shot up beside her and yelled a second time. "Oh! Ohh!" He was gripping hard onto the dashboard, shaking. Then he spun and leaned forward a bit to look at Casey. "SOMEBODY ORDER DRIVE-THRU, HUH? Did you think that up as you were racing to save us? 'Hey, maybe I'll say this after I crash into this restaurant'!" he half-yelled. Right into her ear, too, now that she was smashed between them. The freaking jackass.

She spun on him. "Welcome to the spy life, Chuck! You wanna be a spy? This is it! Guys like that interrupting your real dates! If you ever get any real dates, because you're a fucking spy!" she yelled, leaning close to his face. He looked stricken, surprised, still trembling a bit in fear. "You wanna be a spy, Chuck? Great! Dive out of the way of a Crown Victoria driving through the front window of a God damn restaurant! You get cornered by a guy built like a tank? Figure it the fuck out! That's what you do when you're a spy. That sound good to you? Huh? That sound like something you want to be a part of?"

Silence settled in the car as Casey swung his car onto the freeway. "Uh…" He cleared his throat. "I, uh, take it...he told you. I mean, the, uh, news."

"Shut up, Casey!" she barked, not even bothering to look at him. "I'll deal with your bullshit next. But right now, I want to know what in the hell all of this was all these months, Chuck?" He looked like he'd been blindsided a bit, and how dare he? How dare he look stricken? How dare he look like he'd been the one blindsided? "Over and over and over, you led me to believe you wanted a normal life, without the Intersect, away from all of this spying stuff. I spent all of this time protecting you, keeping you safe, working to find a way to get you free from all of this, because I was so sure that was what you wanted. And then you get the slightest whiff of an opportunity to train as an agent with the NSA, and fuck all of that I guess." She threw her hands up as best she could, smashed between Chuck and Casey in this front seat. "Do you think all of this is easy, Chuck?"

"N-No, I-" he tried, but she cut him off. She didn't want to hear him right now.

"You think that because you've been a part of this operation as an asset for a couple of months, you can just dive right into becoming an agent like it's nothing? You think you're gonna swing this because you watched Casey and I do it?"

She saw anger in him then, and something deep inside of her sparked at the sight. "I'm not an idiot!" he snapped back. "I know it's hard. I was there when all of us almost died a shit ton of times, Sarah. That's why I am going to be trained!"

"Oh, are you?" she snarked. "Wow, great. That's just great." She turned to look at Casey. "So we're just going to train the man carrying the Intersect in his brain to be an agent so that he can end up in even worse danger. Let's toss him into the field like he's expendable, the way you and I have spent our whole careers being shoved into deadly situations like we're expendable. Risking our God damn necks. Is that what we all want now?" She turned back to Chuck. "We want Chuck to risk his neck the way we do?"

"The kid deserves a choice," Casey muttered.

"I'm not a kid," Chuck cut in. "I'm a grown man…"

"This decision is super grown of you, Chuck, yes," she drawled sarcastically, bunching her fists in the hem of her dress. She wanted to strangle both of them. "When was this decided? When did everyone decide to make Chuck into an NSA agent without letting me in on the secret?" she asked.

The car was silent.

"That long, huh?" she finally asked, quietly. She scoffed bitterly. "Some partnership this is."

"I told Casey not to tell you. I wanted to do this," Chuck explained, and she gave him a severe look for that.

"I was talking about all three of us, Chuck. This partnership. This team." She gestured between the three of them. He cast his gaze downward, looking legitimately contrite.

"Sarah, I didn't make this decision without putting a lot of thought into it. I knew it could keep me out of a bunker, and I could-could take control of my own life, my own destiny."

"Is that what you think this is?" She half-laughed at his naivety. "You think this life is anything even remotely close to freedom? Have you even been paying attention, Chuck? Oh my God! The only way you're ever going to be free is if we get that Intersect out of your head and get the government away from you, get you away from the intelligence agencies. And here you are diving head first into one. I can't believe you, Chuck!"

She felt the sting of tears at the backs of her eyes now. He was ruining everything. This was a path towards disaster. He'd hopped onto the path that would take him as far away from a normal life as possible, and she knew beyond a doubt that it was the same path that would destroy the man she'd come to know better than anyone else in her entire life, the man she cared about more than she cared to admit, even now as she battled the painful sensation of betrayal. This was so fucking stupid, so fucking unfair.

"We have to find out who those men were, who Colt is. We need to know who they're working for," she said, changing the subject so fast she saw Casey's head whip around and stare at her, wide-eyed.

"Nuh uh," he growled. "Nope. There were way too many of 'em."

"At least we have the cipher I got from Colt in the first place."

Sarah grit her teeth to keep from snapping something snarky and potentially hurtful at Chuck.

"Uh…" They both turned to look at Casey. He'd had a tone. And she didn't like it. At all. He cleared his throat. "About that… Looks like you're still the only Intersect, Chuck."

She turned to face forward, the meaning not lost on her. They'd gotten the cipher from Casey. How, she didn't know. It didn't matter.

"...Sarah?" Chuck muttered, desperation and worry in his voice.

She didn't answer, still staring at the street in front of them, filled with rage and embarrassment and a slew of other things, wanting to reach over and shake Chuck until he told her it was a prank or something. That he really hadn't decided to become a spy, that he wasn't actually choosing to forsake everything that made him...him...just to get to run around holding a gun like the idiots on the TV shows and movies he watched growing up.

He couldn't rely on her anymore. She wouldn't let him. If he wanted to be a spy, he was doing this on his own. Without her help. She was done helping.

Because she had this debilitating fear that she'd helped him right into making this stupid decision that would end up with him dead. It left her shaking in the silence of the car.

"We'll get it back," Casey was saying, but she wasn't listening.

Chuck was choosing to step all the way into her world and she couldn't help feeling like she was a big part of the reason why. All this time, she'd been protecting him from arms dealers, drug smugglers, terrorists, traitors, the government… and she'd never realized she'd left him totally unguarded when it came to herself. He was walking into the spy world, her world … because she'd left the door open for him.

}o{

He hadn't slept well that night. He knew things might go bad, but this...this was worse than he ever thought. She wouldn't even hear him out...she was ready to kiss him one second, and the next…

He wasn't one hundred percent sure she hadn't left Burbank, she was that mad.

The morning passed by slowly. Casey had the later shift and no one seemed to want to talk to him. It was like he was radiating a vibe of stay away from me. He thought about texting her, he thought about going over to the Orange Orange, but that was as far as those thoughts went.

He was angry if he was being honest. No, he was disappointed. He made the decision, he was a grown up, and Sarah was treating him like a child, and he had no idea why. They were allowed to be together now, and she was angry at him. It made no sense to him. None.

She hadn't said a word to him for the rest of the car ride, and he and Casey rode in silence back to Echo Park. Casey said he'd take care of the Herder, which was probably for the best because he had forgotten all about it. He started to get out of the car when Casey asked him if he was going to the beach. Chuck shook his head and went inside, not saying a word to anyone.

He'd avoided Ellie and Awesome this morning, not wanting either of them to pick out that something was wrong. He didn't want to have to tiptoe and lie around what happened.

He went on break early, because who cared?

He sat at the table and stared straight ahead, preoccupied by what had happened in Casey's car.

It didn't make sense. He thought she might be upset, sure, but they could be together now. Was he not enough?

Or did she want that handler/asset barrier there to protect herself? This had always been his fear. He knew she cared for him, but was a life in his world not enough? Even if that was the case, he'd just made a decision that would put him in her world. And he had tried to explain that to her, but she wouldn't listen.

He sighed. He wasn't her asset anymore, damn it. What more did she need? He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever be enough for Sarah Walker.

He was still sitting there, staring at nothing, when Casey came in. Chuck felt the older man's gaze on him for a moment, and then he grunted and shook his head, beginning to peeling the bandage off of his face from where he'd been struck the night before. But as he grabbed a fresh bandage to replace it, Chuck caught sight of the horrific welt on Casey's face, an imprint, a pattern there...from the ring Casey's attacker had been wearing.

Chuck flashed.

He shook his head and jumped to his feet. This was his chance to prove to her he could do this.

"I know where they are," Chuck proclaimed.

Casey gave him a look. "Who?"

"Who? What do you mean, who? Colt! The guy who smashed you in the face last night," Chuck explained. Casey gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, I flashed on your scar. It's the emblem for their organization. They have a secret hideout downtown. Warehouse 17 on 103rd Street. We'll hop in the Herder...and the NSA agents will take care of this. You know, since Sarah isn't exactly all that happy with me right now."

Casey gave him a look. "Cool your jets, hotshot. I'll call it in, and tell Sarah."

"What do you mean call it in? There's no time! They could be on the move already!"

Casey studied him. "You know how in the past I would call you a moron, or numbnuts, or some other term?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied, confused.

"Well, I was wrong," Casey said. Chuck's mouth dropped. "Because you're a fucking moron." Chuck's mouth dropped further. Casey pointed his finger in Chuck's face walking him backwards. "You fucked up, Kid, and yeah, I mean KID. You may be the same age as Sarah, you may be smarter than her and I combined, but we know shit that you have NO IDEA about. NONE!" Casey shook his head, and began to walk away but changed his mind and charged back, making Chuck press himself against the wall. "Maybe I'm the moron. I should have INSISTED you tell her, you TALK to her. You have made her job a THOUSAND times harder. You have made her life a MILLION times harder."

"I don't know what you mean," Chuck tried.

"Cut the shit, Bartowski." Chuck's eyes widened. "For the love of God, you two are killing me with this shit and now you're fighting because you fucked up." Chuck pressed his lips together, preparing to retort. Casey widened his eyes, almost in a dare. Chuck gulped and kept his mouth shut. "She understands better than anybody what kinda hell you're going to go through, what it could do to you, how it could change you."

"I thought she liked that kind of guy," Chuck replied. "I thought she wanted someone who could be in her life and then she wouldn't be stuck in this world, my world."

Casey stared at him like he had just said the dumbest thing in the world. "You are a dumbass if I ever met one." He was nearly growling. "Who did she stay with when she had the choice?" Chuck looked away. Casey poked him in the chest so he looked back at him again. "You need to cool your jets and listen to Sarah and I. She ain't looking for James Bond, 'cause if she was, she wouldn't be goin' after you."

Chuck just glared at him.

He growled. "I don't know what I did, or what sins I'm paying for that I'm the one who has to explain this to you…" He shook his head and stared at Chuck, making him gulp. "If she didn't care do you think she would'a reacted that way?" Chuck blinked. "Who knows what you're going to have to go through better than she does?"

"You think I've always been like this?" Chuck wasn't really sure if Casey was asking for the honest to God truth and it must've shown on his face because Casey grunted. "Fine, do you think she's always been like this?" Chuck didn't know what 'this' meant, though, at least not when it came to Agent Sarah Walker. All he could think of was that spy mask of hers. Was there a time when she hadn't felt the need to cover up her emotions, to protect herself from being vulnerable? He assumed there was. And it made his chest hurt.

But then he thought of the hurtful things she'd said, the anger he felt coming out of her and slamming into him, right between the eyes. In the worst way. "But that reaction? The things she said to me…?"

Casey shook his head. "What was your reaction when I first told you? How long have you had to process it? And how much about this life do you really know?" Casey widened his eyes and tilted his head. "Hm?"

Chuck worked his jaw, allowing himself to take what Casey said in. "You...you opened the door to the NSA thing, you pushed me through it."

"Nah, no I didn't. The General opened it and gave you incentive to go through it. I was standing here ready to back you up no matter what you did. But I also told you not to keep it from Walker when you made your choice, didn't I?" Casey huffed. "Whatever. This kept you out of a bunker. But you can understand why Sarah'd be as upset as she was, why she reacted that way."

Chuck got the message loud and clear. Though he knew he should've gotten it before. He'd just been too hurt and stunned by Sarah's intensity, the fury. Now that he'd gotten a bit of space and a pep talk from Casey in the only way the NSA agent knew how, he suspected, Chuck was starting to realize that Sarah's reaction the night before was a result of concern, real and pure worry. She was worried about him. Scared for his safety.

"Anyway, I'm sure she knows deep down you did the only thing you could, but you threw it all at her in a shitty way. There was a reason I wanted you to start talking to her weeks ago about this. But you had to do it your way, and I let you. That was my bad. That's why I let Walker chew my ass out last night, and I'm sure she's going to finish me off some more later."

"I'm sorry," Chuck said softly. Casey stepped back with a nod. "I'm in over my head, aren't I?"

"Yeah, kid, you are, but we got you." He paused. "If you fall, we got you."

"Casey, I know you do, but...I'm not so sure about Sarah anymore."

Casey gave him a serious look. "Then you're just as much of a moron as I always say you are."

Chuck frowned deeply.

Casey continued. "I'm going to go tell Walker about your flash, and we'll go take care of this. Then we'll all convene with Beckman afterwards."

Chuck nodded, and headed toward the Nerd Herd Desk, defeated.

He hadn't told Sarah the truth, he hadn't talked to her about it, and the way he'd chosen to do it was such a serious mistake. He owned that, even as the thought of telling her had sent a stark feeling of inadequacy and inferiority through him every time he thought he might finally lay it out on the table.

Either way, he knew joining the NSA was the right thing to do. No matter what she said about it. And maybe that was why he should've just bitten the bullet and done it right off the bat.

"Christ, Bartowski, come on," Casey grumbled before Chuck even got to the door of the break room. He spun to give Casey a wide-eyed look. "We'll go tell her together."

"I think I'm actually, um...Uh, I'm good at the desk," Chuck replied. The thought of facing her at this moment, seeing that horribly upset look on her face, the anger...It made him feel a little ill inside. And he didn't want to make things worse. But Casey clamped his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "On second thought," Chuck mumbled. "I am the junior agent so I'll do what you say."

Casey walked Chuck over to the Orange Orange. He was one part relieved she was there since he hadn't seen her since the date ended...badly, and one part wrecked upon seeing the look on her face.

"The Junior Agent flashed," Casey said to her. She glared at him hard, earning an uncomfortable shrug. He seemed to decide it best for him to get out of there as quickly as possible then, and he wordlessly walked through the back door of the Orange Orange, leaving Chuck alone with Sarah.

She stared at him, and he held her gaze. "Hey," he breathed, not looking away for even a moment. She gave a slight nod, her displeasure clear for him to see. "I know you're very clearly mad at me-"

"Not now, Chuck. Not now." He nodded and she took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Not until I cool off. I'm really angry."

"You are gonna cool off though...eventually...right?"

She never answered and when Casey came through the back door, she finally diverted her gaze.

He couldn't help himself. "What-what's back there?"

"Well, like the sign says, yogurt and fun," Casey quipped. Chuck gave him a look. "Before you start, you aren't coming."

Chuck drew up. He needed to show her he could do this. He needed in on this mission. He HAD to fix this. "Oh, so it was okay to bring me in the past when I was an asset, but now I'm not allowed?"

"You're not a real spy," Sarah said to him. He felt the rug yanked out from under him. He was in hell. He was no longer an asset, and he wasn't a spy. "Yet," she added. Hurt flashed across her face, and then her mask washed over her face again, hiding whatever was there. "We will have a tactical team meeting us at the location that you gave Casey."

Casey watched Sarah leave and turned to Chuck. "We'll take down Colt and find the cipher, and you go back to work. That's an order. Agent Carmichael is sitting this one out." He got to the door and paused before he opened it. "I'm doing this for you, so she won't shoot you."

"She wouldn't shoot me," Chuck replied.

Casey gave him a look. "Wanna bet on that?" he asked, and then he was gone. Chuck thought for a minute. No...no, he didn't want to bet on that.

}o{

Sarah drove the car in silence. It wasn't unusual for them not to talk in the car, but this time there was tension.

"Should we do this before we get there?" Casey asked, ending the silence. She glanced over at him and shrugged. "Everything you said to him was right." She turned her head, stunned, remembered she was driving, and turned back toward the road. "I told his ass over and over to tell you."

"Why, Casey?" she asked, frustration spilling from her. "Why would you let him go down that road?"

"Two reasons." Sarah gripped the steering wheel hard and listened. "Graham's up to something, Sarah, and you know it." She couldn't say he was wrong. "Kid's been shit on, there's no getting around that, and this was the way to make the best we could out of the situation. Yeah, he's romanticized the life, but he's been on the CIA's radar before all of this. Don't forget that." There was complete truth in what Casey was saying. "Pulling him into the NSA protects him from the CIA. He accepted under the condition that we promised he'd keep me and you. That was part of the deal." She squirmed a little bit. He paused and took a deep breath. "And you know damn well what the second part of his decision was."

There it was. He just laid it out on a silver platter. If they were both honest, this was probably the first reason, the biggest reason.

"I need to say this, Walker," Casey began.

"I swear to God, if there is any food innuendo I will shoot your kneecap."

"You're both fucking morons." She turned slowly to look at him. "For Christ's sake, Walker, you two have danced around this thing for six months. Do you know how many times I almost shoved you two in a room and told you to take care of the problem?"

"That wouldn't have fixed the problem, Casey," she nearly snarled.

"Oh, I know, you went and fell in love."

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" She pulled back immediately upon finding her voice so loud and half-desperate. It was embarrassing. She was ashamed. "Casey," she said softly then. "I can't...we don't-"

"Save it, Walker," Casey muttered, interrupting her. "He fucked up, but he's not the first one in this weird dance you two are doing to step on toes." She gave him a weirded out look and he corrected himself. "This...relationship."

"We don't have a relationship," she countered. She pulled the car up to the building, and turned to him, choking back all the emotion within her. "We don't."

"Walker, you don't believe that for a damn second. And no one else does either. Come on, let's do our job." Casey got out of the car and met with the TAC team. They stormed the building, Sarah on auto-pilot.

He had done it for her, because he thought they could be together. Didn't he understand he deserved better? Didn't he understand she'd bring him nothing but pain? It wasn't like there wasn't any precedent there. She'd already brought him enough pain. They'd brought each other pain. What made him think this would be different?

"No one's here," Casey said to her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Casey...the flashes…sometimes they might be wrong..."

Casey shook his head. "He could have been right and they've moved on."

Sarah's eyes widened and they both ran back to the car.

}o{

Chuck walked into the Buy More, immediately seeing that everyone was running around. Emmett had apparently cracked the whip. Chuck wondered why he hadn't bothered him and Casey, but he didn't care enough to ask.

He felt a slimy presence beside him. "Bartowski," Emmett seem to purr like a toxic eel. "Computer emergency." Chuck turned to him. "We just got a call for Nerd Herd help. They said they got a recommendation for you."

He really didn't want to go in case Sarah and Casey needed him. "Can I send someone else or did they ask for me specifically?"

"Charles, when someone asks for you, we give them you, because you are the best of the Nerd Herd," Emmett said with a saccharine smile on his face. Chuck felt a little violated.

"Got it," Chuck said, went and got his paperwork, and headed out to the Nerd Herder.

Five minutes later found him at his destination. And honestly, he was a little glad if he was honest. This was something he was good at, something easy, something that meant he wouldn't just be at the stupid desk twiddling his fingers.

But as he got inside, he looked around, wondering why he was called to what looked to be an abandoned building. "Guess they're repurposing it," he said with a shrug. "Buy More Nerd Herd. Hello. I'm here about the…" He paused as the door open and he saw Colt. "Computer... Emergency."

"Hello, Chuck. Come on in," Colt told him.

"You know, I'm feeling a bad case of food poisoning coming on from last night's dinner," Chuck began. "Maybe that's why that restaurant was so empty. Everyone who ate there had explosive diarrhea that came on later...hours later."

"Uh huh," Colt muttered, grabbed Chuck and pulled him inside. Colt's men surrounded him. Colt went to check on something and then walked back up to Chuck.

"So, uh, what-what, uh, seems to be your computer problem?" Chuck asked, realizing he was in way over his head.

"Here's the problem, Chuck. You saw my face and you heard my voice." Colt took off his coat.

"That's not a problem," Chuck replied quickly. He was an agent, he could get out of this, but as Casey said, he needed to use his brain. "That's not a problem at all. I forget things all the time. Ask my sister; I forgot her birthday. I forget my social security number. Just anything, ask me, I'll forget it." He watched Colt who appeared to be doing stretches. "What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm stretching, getting limber," Colt replied.

Oh God... "Why are you doing that?" Maybe they were going to have a video game contest. Yeah, that was it.

"So I won't pull a muscle when I break your neck," Colt replied. At that moment, Chuck wished for anything to save him, even explosive diarrhea. "Maybe you should get limber, too." This was it. He was going to-

The cipher. There it was. His for the taking. He wanted to be an agent. Her words rang in his head. You get cornered by a guy built like a tank? Figure it the fuck out! That's what you do when you're a spy.

He was a spy….she had asked him at the skating rink for his ideas. She knew he could do this...she just didn't want him to. If he died right now, he would be alone, but worse than that, he would have made Sarah's fears come true. He was a goddamn spy and he had an idea. A crazy ass idea, but sometimes crazy was all you had. He turned around and started toward the window.

"Where you going? There's nobody here to help you." Chuck stared out the window, the plan slowly forming in his head. It was batshit crazy, he knew. "Oh, your friends, that's right. They're next on my to do list." Yeah, fuck that, he wasn't touching Sarah. Resolve he didn't know he possessed coursed through him. "See, you walked into a trap, Chuck... if that is your real name."

Go big or go home, right? He was doing this to save his life...he was doing this to prove to Sarah he could. He turned around slowly, an amused grin on his face. He began to walk toward Colt.

"My name is Charles Carmichael. I'm a NSA agent, and this is my trap." Colt began to chuckle. "I don't think you gentlemen realize the gravity of the predicament that you're in. See, that phone call you made to the Buy More? Yeah, we traced that. Your compound is currently surrounded by twenty-three infantry troopers, sixteen snipers, seven heavy gunners, four demolitions experts, and enough ammunition to orbit Arnold Schwarzenegger. You're outmatched and you're outgunned. Those peashooters you're holding might as well be sharp sticks and strong language."

Two of his men raced to the window to check. "Nothing there, boss. Looks clear," they reported. Chuck stared at the cipher. He was walking out of here with the cipher, and Colt wasn't touching Casey or Sarah.

"Good try, Chuck," Colt said highly amused.

Chuck smirked at him. "Of course you don't see anyone. Who do you think we are-the CIA?" Sarah was going to kill him for that… Well, after she killed him for all the other things she had on her list to kill him for. "The only thing you're going to see is a muzzle flash, followed by an e-ticket straight to Hell. So make the smart choice and... Why don't you hand over the cipher?" Colt cracked his neck and headed toward Chuck, tired of games. "Wait, w-w-wa-wai-wait, wait, wait." Chuck called Morgan, putting it on speaker phone. "I think that, uh... I think that you might want to hear this."

"Hey, Chuck," Morgan answered.

"Hey, Morgan," Chuck replied calmly, looking Colt in the eye. "Morgan, I'd like you to tell me the exact specs for the team surrounding the compound."

"The whole shebang?" he and Colt heard Morgan ask.

"The whole shebang," Chuck replied, not breaking eye contact with Colt, and Chuck swore he saw Colt flinch.

"Yes, sir," they heard over the phone. "We have twenty-three infantry troopers, sixteen snipers, seven heavy gunners, and four demolitions experts." Colt looked nervous and Chuck could feel the worry in his men. "I should tell you I got a little impatient and we took out one of the sentries. Don't worry, it was a head shot. He couldn't warn his buddies. It was awesome, man, you should have seen it. His head exploded like a watermelon."

Colt's men were at the windows trying to see if they could spot anything at all. "Thanks, Morgan," Chuck said calmly, hanging up. The men at the windows were saying something about Fritz who was either dead or in the bathroom. Colt was frazzled. "One more time. Give up."

Colt snapped. "He's either lying, or he's crazy." He walked past Chuck. "Check everywhere," he said from the window. "Don't let anything get past you." Chuck fastened his eyes on the cipher and lunged, grabbing it and taking off. He ran through the abandoned building as fast as he could. This was going to work, this was going to work… And then Colt was there, right in front of him. The hulking mass of human reached out to grab him.

"Oh, hey!" he said, making Colt paused. "Don't move." Colt raised an eyebrow. "Please, don't move." Colt shoved him and he flew through a window. He could hear Sarah in his ear now. You get cornered by a guy built like a tank? Figure it the fuck out! That's what you do when you're a spy.

He was out of ideas as Colt finally grabbed him. "Hey, no." Colt dragged him over to the ledge, then dangled him off the edge, holding him by his ankle and nothing else. Chuck screamed.

"Hand it over," Colt snarled.

"What'll you do if I give it to you?"

"To be honest, I'm gonna drop you."

Damn it, he had to figure this out. "See, thi-this is what I'm talking about. We've got to work on your negotiating skills. How about this? How about you pull me back up and we just discuss this like two rational adults?"

"You know what?" Colt began.

"Freeze!"

That was Sarah. Chuck had figured it out. Stay alive until his partner got here. And then he spotted the look on Colt's face, clear as day… OH, SHIT.

"It ain't worth it," Colt groused, and he let him go.

}o{

"I'll check next floor up. You take the roof," Casey said, slamming the door out of the stairwell open with his shoulder and rushing in.

She didn't pause for even a second, instead racing up the stairs all the way to the roof.

For once, Chuck had done what they'd told him to do. He'd stayed at the Buy More until he was tricked to make a house call for the Nerd Herd. And still, he was in incredibly deep trouble. If this was what happened when he was just an asset… God, how much worse was it going to be when they were no longer telling him to stay in the car, to stay at the Buy More? When he charged into these situations alongside them?

She willed that thought away and burst onto the roof, spinning on her heel every which way to look for Colt and Chuck, to look for any sign that they still had Chuck here somewhere.

But then she saw them. Or rather, she saw Colt. The way he stood at the edge of the roof, his hands out in front of him… She had bone-deep sick feeling that nearly had her staggering. He was holding Chuck above his death. She heard his voice drift over the rooftop, like he was threatening Chuck, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

It didn't matter. She had her gun up, cocked, immediately. Without hesitation. "FREEZE!" she yelled. She ran through every possible plan in her head to get Colt to carefully set Chuck back down on the roof, turn himself in. She couldn't shoot him. He'd let go of Chuck if she did. Chuck's life depended on what she did here as she took a step closer, her heart hammering in her chest.

She saw Colt turn to look at her over his shoulder. She saw it in his face before he did it. In just three short seconds, he'd weighed his options, and decided there was no reason to keep the man he was dangling over imminent doom alive.

Her blood went cold. It froze in her veins. She stepped forward, her voice caught in her throat as she saw him turn back...and just like that, he opened his hands and the feet and legs she could just barely see around Colt's body disappeared from view.

She screamed. She heard her own scream like it was an out of body experience, like she was standing off to the side watching this happen. And he was gone. After all of these months of promising him she'd keep him safe, get him his old life back, he was gone.

Her lungs felt as if they'd collapsed in on themselves. No matter how deeply she tried to breathe, she couldn't. Her feet were rooted to the roof, her arms lowering the gun without her even telling them to. She just stared at the space where he'd been. As if she could look hard enough and he'd appear there again.

She was lost.

And then her watery focus switched over to the man strolling towards her slowly as if what he'd just done was nothing to him. She held onto her gun tighter, her hands shaking, trying to keep another wail inside of her chest as she willed her legs not to collapse beneath her. He was smirking, as if he hadn't just killed the most important thing on this entire planet. No, as if he'd almost relished in letting Chuck go. He'd let him go like he was a candy wrapper hovering over a trash can. He was walking away from what he'd done not realizing, or caring, that he'd just extinguished a light. Not just in the world but inside of her.

And for the first time since her career began, she knew what it felt like to want to just give up. Surrender. Lay down her gun and let life finally strike her down the way it wanted to.

But she didn't. She kept her feet.

Because she heard Colt's voice carry across the rooftop: "Your boyfriend's dead now, baby. What you gonna do?" he taunted.

It wasn't the taunting that made her hold onto her gun, grit her teeth, and stare at him with the fires of ten thousand hells. It was a flash of a memory from six months earlier, something she wouldn't ever forget for as long as she lived. Sitting on the beach next to Chuck Bartowski-the old friend of her ex-partner and sometime-lover Bryce Larkin who had driven her past the DMV on the way to dinner so she'd know where it was in the future. He'd just had the rug pulled out from under him in the worst God damned way she could imagine, and he was looking at a future that probably sounded a lot like being in prison with an added element of danger, having to lie to the people he loved. She'd told him in that moment that she was going to protect him. She'd told him to trust her. And in spite of how scared he must've been, how angry and confused, he'd smiled for her as best he could. The look on his face in that moment had left her reeling. As if he must've understood how frustrating it must be for her, having to stay in Burbank and watch over him like he was some insanely old crown jewels in a museum. As if he was sharing some sort of moment with her, commiserating.

This mother fucker had taken that out of the world.

And she was going to use every last fiber of her being to make sure she took him out of it, too.

She bit back a sudden sob, her body betraying her as her chest ached with loss, and he closed in on her fast enough that she wasn't able to pull the trigger in time before he blocked her arm away and went in for a hard punch to her face. She staggered back with an outcry, the gun flying out of her hand.

But she recuperated fast, using her momentum from being hit to spin and crack her leg down against his back as hard as she could. He fell to his knees with a grunt and she let out a yell in pure, unfiltered rage, jumping onto his back and rounding his throat with her arm, yanking until she heard him choking. His fingers grappled at her arm as she yanked again, breathing harshly through gritted teeth. She turned her face. There were a million things she wanted to say before he died, holding tight as he continued to struggle. But she didn't say any of them, instead blinking at the tears that were threatening to fall. Nothing was enough. There was nothing that would ever be enough for this piece of shit to hear that would make up for the loss of…

She felt a fist grab her hair at the back of her head and yank then and she cried out, loosing her grip around his neck just enough for him to be able to flip her over his head.

Sarah landed hard on her back, gasping for breath as it surged out of her lungs and rolling onto her stomach, coughing.

And then she saw his boots right next to her face as he leaned down and grabbed her by her hair again, hoisting her to her feet as she yelled in pain. She pulled away enough to thrust her boot at his chest, but he caught it, smirking.

Without hesitating, she used that foot cradled in his hands as leverage and leapt up to bring her free leg around and kick him right across his temple. When he came up from it, bleeding from a gash above his eyebrow, she moved in and clapped her hands on either side of his head, right over his ears. Hard.

Colt went down to his knees, holding his ears, as she brought her boot down against the back of his head and sent him rolling to the ground in pain.

But then he was on his feet again, coming at her. She went in for a punch to his side, but he caught her arm against him and brought his right hand up to grab her by the throat. With no warning, she was hoisted off of her feet, hanging limp from his grip on her throat, choking fast as she kicked, trying to find some sort of hold against his body. His shoulder maybe? Head? But he just kept squeezing. She was fading fast.

Sarah grabbed him by his wrist with both hands, and swung one foot over and down on his arm, hearing and seeing it snap awkwardly from the impact.

She barely landed on her feet, staggering back a few inches and holding her throat, choking for breath as he held his arm, squirming on the ground, trying to get up again even though she'd maybe just broken his arm.

But as she approached to finish the job, he swung a foot out and swiped her legs. She hit her head on the way down and saw the stars flicker through her vision.

As she tried to blink them away, she saw him towering over her, blocking the sun. "Ya God damn bitch," he growled. But before he could do anything else, she kicked both of her legs out, one against his leg, the other slamming into his groin. Hard.

And as he leaned down with a cry of pain, his face made the perfect target, she thought, and she cracked her boot into his face.

She rolled onto her knees and hunched over, still choking, trying to get her breath, in an insane amount of pain but knowing he was a lot worse off. She glanced over and saw he was still holding his crotch in agony, his other arm limp at his side as he just laid there.

She heard Casey approaching before he even said anything and she nearly lost any semblance of control she'd had. Because now that her partner had arrived, the reality of everything crashed down around her. She didn't have to keep her head clear to stay alive. Casey had her back. And she crunched forward, hunching in on herself, close to letting the fury and debilitating misery overtake her.

"Enough already," Casey grunted, pointing a gun at Colt as the man finally climbed to his feet, slowly, gingerly, his good hand clutching the arm she'd broken.

"Awww, c'mon. You know you gotta put that gun down…"

Shit. She looked up and saw they weren't alone. Colt's men had followed them here. Or maybe they'd hidden this whole time, waiting for their boss's stupid ass one-liner before they revealed themselves.

"You're surrounded," Colt boomed. "Meet the rest of my men."

She met Casey's gaze and let out a miserably exhausted sigh. They'd failed Chuck and now they were done, too.

Colt was mid-laugh, making everything inside of her scream out for the chance to feel his pulse stop under her fingers as she strangled him to death, even as she choked back threatening anguish, when she heard the door to the roof burst open behind her.

"'Scuse me!"

Her heart stopped. She didn't dare look…

"'Scuse me, hi!"

She got to her knees and turned to look, pushing her hair out of her face and just staring. The air came back into her lungs as she saw Chuck rush out onto the roof with a stream of special ops following him out, their guns trained on Colt's men immediately.

"Sorry to interrupt...your little, uh, bad guy who thinks he's won speech there, uh, Mr. Colt," Chuck drawled, closing the distance, squinting into the sun awkwardly and lifting his finger. "But, uh, I just wanted you to meet my team." She slowly climbed to her feet, just staring at him numbly, not knowing how to even react. When she'd been so sure, everything in her crumbling… "Tell me somethin', do you find them imposing?" His tie was picked up by the wind and it smacked him in the face but he pretended it hadn't happened and kept going. "Go 'head; you can be honest. I was going for imposing."

She pushed her hair out of her face again and gasped out his name. He finally switched his gaze to her, looking her right in the eyes, and it was like a punch to her gut.

"Carmichael," he said, shrugging a bit. She wasn't listening, instead just gaping, unable to keep the start of a smile from her face. "Agent Carmichael."

She was listening again all of a sudden. Agent Carmichael.

Fuck.

"Maybe you can go ahead and put your weapons down," he was commanding Colt's men, this whole situation seeming to go to his head. There was a mess inside of her, soul-deep relief that he was alive, mixed with the absolute agony of thinking he'd been dead, mixed with exhaustion and frustration that he was standing here with his head as big as California like he was already some sort of damn agent. She was torn between wanting to hold him close and feel him living against her fingertips...and flat-out hitting him across his smug face. The absolute jerk.

"I said put your weapons down!" he yelled. And as they finally moved to listen to him, putting their weapons on the ground and holding their hands up, that smugness increased. He'd somehow survived being dropped off the roof of a building and brought the spec-ops up, and he really thought this was all that easy. He'd missed her nearly being strangled to death.

"Oh, there ya go," he snarked. "And then, the, uh, the hands go up...to imply that your hands are empty…"

Casey moved to cuff Colt as the bigger man smirked, nodding his head at Chuck. "Your boss. Carmichael." Oh, Jesus. "He's good."

Had Chuck heard it? She turned on her heel and saw that he had. He was standing there with his arms crossed. The look on his face dimmed a bit and he became a lot more serious as she closed the distance between them and pushed her hair out of her face again. "Don't-Don't worry, I-I'm fine," he said quickly.

She wasn't even going to give him that much at the moment. "Do you have the cipher? Please tell me you have the cipher," she said, getting right to business.

Chuck dug in his pocket then and pulled it out. "Of course I have it," he chirped, wiggling it between them. She let out a sigh in relief, her hands on her head. "It's me!"

He was amazing. She had so much battling in her mind, in her heart. Everything fighting to come out on top. She was in pain in so many places, in so many ways. She was annoyed. She was relieved. She was impressed, and then mostly just annoyed. Confused…

And as Casey walked past them with Colt in front of him, he snatched the cipher out of Chuck's fingers, and Sarah decided to follow without saying another word to Chuck.

Because more than anything, what just happened had put everything into perspective for her in a way nothing else could have quite so well.

He'd nearly died. She thought he had died. Because that was what happened to intelligence agents. That was what happened in the CIA, the NSA, the FBI… Agents died. She'd had partners die on the job, too many to count. She'd watched it happen in front of her eyes in at least one instance… And she hadn't been able to do anything to stop it.

As she took the stairs two at a time, not knowing where she was going to go or what she was going to do once she got to the bottom of the stairs, she was replacing that agent with Chuck. She tried not to, but she was. And God damn him for being up there playing games, getting cocky… The spy life was nothing like what he thought it was, it was nothing like what he'd witnessed so far in this operation. Operation Bartowski, the Intersect Project…? None of this reflected the reality of what it was like out there. And he had no fucking clue what he was getting himself into.

Anyone who thought it wouldn't screw him up once he actually saw the reality of the spy world didn't know him at all. They'd never seen him-an admitted arachnophobe-make scared sounds and whimper as he picked up a large spider from his bedroom floor with a piece of printer paper and toss it out of his window instead of just smashing it under his shoe, the way she had. They'd never felt his arms around them, how safe and warm and cared for it made you feel, how tender and gentle but strong at the same time it was… the way she had.

A tiny bit of control and power on the rooftop had made him into a smug version of himself. And while it was cute to see him do that over beating Morgan at some shooting video game, it had left something inside of her feeling raw in a bad way. The worst way.

God help Chuck Bartowski-Agent Carmichael-if he thought this was all a game. Because she and Casey wouldn't be able to help him. He'd be on his own. And he wouldn't make it.

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 **A/N:** Please leave us reviews. Let us know what you think. Thanks for reading! Hopefully the next chapter is out soon. We're trying.

-SC and DC


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N:** We're going to be publishing the next chapter as soon as I (SC) can get it edited and out there. Hopefully just a few days turnaround. Both of us want to stress how important it is for y'all to stay inside and stay safe, please. Wherever you are. And we'll try to keep giving you as much to do as possible while you're waiting this out at home. Thanks so much for the supportive reviews, everyone.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making money off of this story.

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Diane Beckman had dealt with many things in her life but this might be the oddest thing she had ever done in her entire career. Two weeks ago her life had been put in absolute upheaval. Nine agents and the Director of the CIA were all killed when trying to upload the new Intersect. The cipher had activated a bomb inside the Intersect room. Two scientists, in charge of helping to create the Intersect were missing, and she was sure they were FULCRUM. Not only that, but there were whispers that FULCRUM might be a part of something called The Ring. She shook her head, irritated that she had been forced to evacuate DC, but at the same time, she was able to come to Burbank and check on her team.

Well...what was left of her team. Walker was currently on another mission, and whether or not she came back, nobody really knew.

This entire mission tried Beckman's patience. Bartowski wasn't your typical agent, and she knew he shouldn't be. He was amazing at what he did but he was...emotional. Very emotional. She looked down at the young man asleep on her bed. Why the hell was Agent Bartowski asleep on her bed? Why wasn't he in his bed, or better yet, where he really belonged...with Agent Walker?

Beckman left the room and walked back out into the main section of Castle.

"Major, why is Agent Bartowski in my bed?"

"Maybe he's lonely and needed some female companionship," Casey muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"MAJOR!"

"Sorry, Ma'am!" he said, snapping to attention. She rolled her eyes and gestured for him to be at ease. "Bartowski is driving me batshit crazy, General. I've shoved document after document under his face, trying to get him to flash. I thought maybe if I exhausted him, his brain would begin to work, but no dice on that. General…we need Agent Walker."

"I don't disagree, Major, but Agent Walker is CIA and she can leave this mission if she wants, which worries me. There has already been rumblings of adding a second CIA agent to this mission since we currently have two NSA agents."

"Do we really?" Casey asked, making Beckman snort. "As for Bartowski, the other rooms aren't finished yet, you have the only room with a bed, and the Intersect's tummy hurts." There was a flicker of a smile on Casey's face.

"What did you do?" Beckman asked, trying to stop a flicker of her own smile.

"I thought maybe a good run would help him relieve himself of some of those lady feelings," Casey replied, with a shrug. "The only thing he relieved himself of was his breakfast. I told him to go home when he reminded me it might not be the best idea for him to go home after throwing up with two doctors in the apartment…" Casey shrugged.

Beckman rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Of course he would live with two of the smartest people in the world," Beckman grumbled. She straightened, an idea hitting her. "What if we told them? Could that lift this emotional baggage Bartowski has that's making his flashes faulty?"

"I have no idea, General," Casey admitted. "While it would help in many ways, my guess is no." Casey turned to watch the monitor that was showing the feed of Beckman's room. "I've been surveilling him again...making sure he doesn't do something stupid, like tell the bearded gnome."

"Speak your mind, Major," Beckman said.

Casey shook his head. "These two dumb asses went and fell in love and they are so damned worried about the other that all they do is hurt themselves. I'm emotionally stunted and even I can see that much."

"This is Agent Walker's decision and no one else's," Beckman said. They both watched the monitor. "But maybe it is time to bring someone else in on this."

Casey gave her a look.

"Chuck me," he muttered.

}o{

She needed a new suitcase at some point. This one had been through the wringer. And she'd only had it since she came here. Holding onto things was a luxury spies couldn't afford. Even suitcases. And yet, this thing was on its last leg. It was stupid and trivial, she knew, but she found herself staring at her dinged up suitcase wondering if people who traveled a lot for regular jobs had suitcases that looked just like this. Flight attendants and pilots, or salespeople, or businesspeople…

She shook her head and pushed her hands through her hair, letting out a long, calming sigh. But she wasn't calm. She wasn't calm because there were so many things running through her at once.

Her baggage was piled at the foot of her bed, all packed up, ready for her to shut it, zip it up, grab it, and get the hell out of Dodge, as the saying went.

And it had been sitting there like that for two days, ever since she successfully completed the mission she'd been sent on, even the written report part of it. The door was open. General Beckman was clear on that.

After the Intersect 2.0 went...well, much more horribly than any of them could've ever imagined, everyone had seemed at a loss. Even the higher-ups. They'd been infiltrated and fucked. Royally. By the same organization that tried to recruit Bryce, the same organization that was after Chuck and the Intersect. Nobody knew whether they'd start from scratch or not. And nobody had the answers about who those scientists were, how they'd been recruited by Fulcrum, and how they'd managed to get a bomb trigger into the damn thing.

The man who'd approached her when she was a teenager, blackmailed her with her father's safety, with her own freedom, to get her into the Farm, the man who'd built her into the agent she was today, systematically honing her into a sharp and deadly weapon… he was gone. He'd been there when they powered up the Intersect 2.0 and he'd been killed in the explosion, along with a horrifically good chunk of their best scientists and agents.

She knew how callous it probably was, but she felt cheated out of an answer now that he'd died. Would they ever know what Langston Graham was up to? Was he covering up something? Or did he have ulterior motives with all of this? Any answers they might've gotten died with him.

And yet, after everything he'd done, everything he might've been doing that had potentially horrible implications about whose side he was on (though she was leaning towards him simply being on _his own_ side this whole time), and the abuses she'd undergone from the time she was seventeen, Langston Graham had been her mentor. She'd never fully trusted him, but he had finagled things within the agency so that he could handpick her for missions that had made her one of the best agents in the CIA. There was no point in being modest about that. She was Graham's "wildcard enforcer". The most effective tool in his toolbox.

She'd known him for almost a decade. He'd infiltrated almost every single aspect of her existence in that time, in different ways. And...he'd been a part of her identity, whether she'd wanted it or not.

These last two weeks, she'd been in mourning. She just had to admit it to herself. She was in mourning for what had ended up being a bad man. The why and how and what of it was a mystery still, but he'd done wrong...by her, by the agency, by himself. Nothing was ever that clear-cut, either. There was no black and white in this business. Everything operated in a grey area, some things lighter than others, or darker than others. Director Graham operated in an area that was darker than most...but she couldn't imagine he'd been _all bad_.

And then she scoffed at herself and rolled her eyes, a small smirk on her face as she leaned back against the dresser she'd never actually used in these last six months. She sounded like Chuck. If a person had even the tiniest microscopic speck of goodness, he'd see it.

He saw it in her. Somehow. He'd found something. And then he'd clung to it like that was all there was to her, stuck her up on a pedestal, and made a decision to change the course of his life based on that.

He was wrong about her. He was wrong about the spy life. He was wrong to take this path. She knew it so hard that she ached every time she thought about it. And the worst part was that if she hadn't been a part of this operation, he might never have chosen that path.

Maybe it wasn't all about her. Maybe he genuinely thought he wanted to be a spy. Maybe he genuinely thought he would do some good. And God, if anyone on this screwed up planet could ever do legitimate good in this spy life, it was him. It was Chuck Bartowski, or she supposed he was Agent Carmichael now. Whatever he went by once he finished his training. She had no doubt he'd be a good spy. He had been doing better spy work than most of the spies she'd met and worked with in the last decade, with absolutely no training. Properly trained, he'd be fantastic. His mind was quick, he thought outside of the box (maybe because he wasn't trained in the Farm), and he was so damn brave it was staggering sometimes.

But there was no room in this business for knee-jerk altruism. He was going to find that out pretty quick once they put him in the field. She felt a stinging sensation at the backs of her eyes as she wondered what would finally be the nail in the coffin, so to speak. What would be the straw that broke the camel's back? What would finally obliterate the altruism that guided Chuck Bartowski's existence, that need to always do the right thing for everyone but himself? All she knew was that was the last thing she wanted to have happen to him. She didn't want this life to make that optimistic soul of his wither away into a dark pessimism. And it would.

He was diving headfirst into her world because it meant he'd be in her world, but he had no idea what the world was really like. He'd only seen six months' worth of generally tame stuff, as often as his life had been threatened. He hadn't seen the war crimes she and very definitely Casey had seen. And if he went into the NSA especially, he would come face to face with the worst realities of the world.

His faith in humanity would dwindle the way hers had. That light inside of him would be snuffed, like someone had blown out a candle. Easy as that.

And it wracked her with guilt and fear. Why was he doing this to himself?

She knew why he was doing it to himself. It was because he didn't understand. He didn't know what he was doing to himself. She'd lost her ability to be around him to the point where she'd taken the mission General Beckman gave her (a mercy mission, she thought), and she'd never fully explained to him the depth of the mistake he was making. She'd just snapped at him. And Chuck didn't do well when people snapped at him.

The door was still open. All she had to do was grab her baggage and walk through it. All of her baggage, literally and figuratively. She could do it. She could walk away from this, live out there the way she'd been living for the last almost ten years now. She could shoulder the burdens, the memories, and hop from mission to mission the way she'd been doing all this time. Or, and this door was open too—Beckman hadn't said it outright, but she hadn't needed to—she could leave it all behind. She could quit the spy life and settle somewhere in the middle of the country, though she'd prefer somewhere near a beach. Get some regular job. Run away from every last mission she'd gone on, live with the blood that was on her hands, practically dripping from her hands. She could just move on, ignore everything else, and she'd be just fine out there.

She had options. Graham's death had cemented that for her.

Somebody else would slot into her place as Casey's partner...and when Chuck was officially an agent, Chuck's partner. They'd all do just fine. Until Chuck slipped, or until Casey or that replacement agent slipped. Like so many agents slipped because they were all human.

Maybe Casey wouldn't be there to reach out and grab onto Chuck as he fell.

She still hadn't been able to get rid of the memory of how bad the agony had been when she saw Colt let go of Chuck on that rooftop. She'd been left unable to function for way too long as someone who'd been trained to keep a clear head in the field, no matter what. She didn't want to feel that way ever again. It had scared her shitless.

He was too important to her, too deep under her skin. And there was no use trying to deny it, no use trying to backtrack. There was no use trying to claw him out from under her skin now. It wasn't going to do any good. She'd done her damage.

And maybe she didn't want to stick around to watch the fall-out. So sue her.

It was like if the captain of the Titanic had accidentally aimed the ship at the iceberg and when he realized it was going to hit, he grabbed a lifeboat and bounced outta there, rowing away so that he didn't even have to watch it sink.

She was a coward.

But all she had to do was zip up that suitcase and finish this. She could be a coward. That was fine. Who was she trying to impress anyway?

Sarah took her phone out and stared at it, turning it over in her hands slowly. She hadn't deleted Beckman's voicemail yet. It was very professional, exactly the sort of thing her superior officer should say, and in exactly the right tone. If her journey had been the typical one for an agent of U.S. intelligence, she imagined Beckman might've been the perfect mentor. Instead, she'd wound up with the dysfunctional, dark path Graham had pulled her onto, and he was...not the best shepherd, to put it lightly.

Beckman told her in the voicemail that Chuck's training had just started but it wasn't going as well as they needed it to go. Chuck was a fast learner, but in concert with the Intersect, they were running into some problems. He wasn't flashing, she'd said. No matter what they tried to do, it just wasn't working. And Sarah'd spent a few minutes worrying over what they'd "tried to do" to him without her there looking out for him. She was still so pissed at him, and yet …

The NSA psychologist they'd called in had called it repression, whatever that was. Emotions were potentially clogging his ability to access the program now that he'd gained more control over when and how often he flashed. He was fighting it, even as he argued he _wanted_ to flash. He wanted to help his country.

They also hadn't ruled out trauma being one of the reasons he couldn't flash. After the Intersect 2.0 massacre, the impact of the lives lost, Chuck showed clear signs of someone who'd undergone mental and emotional trauma—perhaps guilt, Beckman said, but that was just her own observation.

Sarah was well-acquainted with guilt.

But he couldn't possibly believe those people had died because of him. It hadn't been his fault. He wasn't at fault for any of this. He hadn't asked for the Intersect to be forced on him. He had no control over Fulcrum, the double agent scientists, or the fact that the CIA and NSA decided to build a new Intersect to replace his. And yet, she knew him well enough to know he'd find some way to blame himself.

Maybe he wasn't effective enough. If the Intersect had landed in the brain of a trained agent like it was meant to, they'd never have needed to build another Intersect. He'd just be...good enough. That old refrain she knew too well when it came to Chuck because he constantly struggled with it. He wasn't good enough.

But that was all bullshit. He was good enough.

And he was good enough to be a spy, good enough to be the one who had the Intersect. If anything, he was the perfect person for it. But maybe the Intersect didn't deserve _him_. Maybe none of them deserved him. And now he was trying to make himself better, good enough, by joining the NSA.

At the end of the day, he'd just end up dead. Or have his world views warped and twisted until they were as bleak and empty as hers were. She didn't want this for him.

He'd made his decision. She couldn't make it for him. And she couldn't change it. Especially not now. But it didn't change that she didn't want it for him.

She huffed and smacked her phone down on the dresser behind her. How in the hell was she going to proceed? She didn't even know. And—

There was a knock on her door then. It was a knock she didn't recognize. It wasn't Chuck's playful knock, thank God. She couldn't do that right now. And it wasn't Casey's brusque, commanding knock. It wasn't a knock she'd never heard on the door of her Maison23 room before and she immediately went for the gun in her bedside drawer, easing across the floor of the room as the knock sounded again. This time the visitor sounded more hesitant with their knock.

She eased in close to the door, gun in hand, and very slowly unlocked it, easing it open just an inch to peek out.

Holy shit.

She stuffed the gun in the waistband of her pants at the small of her back and opened the door more, just gaping. She'd lost her footing. She didn't even know what to say.

Ellie just gave her a weak smile, untangling one hand from the knot they'd both formed in front of her to give a similarly weak wave. "Hi, Sarah."

Sarah shook herself. "E-Ellie. Hi. Um…"

"I know, I've never come here before. And this is totally out of left field, but can I...come in...for a sec?"

Without running through the millions of things her trained spy brain would've normally run through—for instance, a check-list of the things she'd left out in her room that a civilian shouldn't be seeing—she swept the door open and stepped back. "Of-Of course, Ellie. Come in. Please."

On second thought, she wondered if Chuck might've been the more welcome option here. At least she knew she could throw him out, tell him she didn't want to talk to him, that she needed space.

She could never—would never—do that to Ellie. But God, she didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Or…?"

"No. No, I'm okay. Thank you." Ellie was staring at something in her room, not even looking at her as she answered, her voice quiet, small. She was overflowing with nervous energy, shifting her weight, wringing her hands, her brow furrowed, even as she had a polite smile on her face.

Sarah followed her gaze and realized she was staring at her luggage, all packed up—as it always was—but looking like she was taking a trip. Or back from a trip. "Oh...uh, that. Yeah. I just...I was on a trip. Business trip."

That wasn't a lie. But the fact was, she'd gotten back days ago. And she'd put the suitcase there because she was deciding if she wanted to leave, really leave, and go...she didn't know where.

Ellie just shook her head, shut her eyes with a sigh, and turned back. There was a speck of frustration there, annoyance. "So nobody warned you, I guess," she said. Something was off. Ellie had never been this tentative or unsure around her before, around anyone before. And that cryptic-ass thing she'd just said … She gave Ellie a questioning look. "You say business trip, but you mean mission. A spy mission. For the CIA."

The floor dropped right out from under her.

}o{

"Are we sure about this?" Casey was asking, but Chuck was still trying to figure out the implications of what General Beckman had just said.

"Wait, wait...wait. Sorry. Hold on." He blinked a few times, then looked at the General who stood in front of him, looking down at him as he sat in one of the chairs next to the conference table. "Sorry. You—Did you just say that it's time for me to...let my family know...about me? Ab-About the Intersect? And joining the NSA? Did I hear you right?"

"Yes, Chuck," the general said, folding her arms at her chest. "You've kept them in the dark for their safety for the last six months and it's clearly been...er…"

"It fucked up your emotions and made all our jobs way harder," Casey input for her. When she sent him a half-flat and half-severe look, he grunted and shrugged, looking properly chastised.

"Not exactly how I would've phrased it, Major Casey," she drawled. "But…" She sighed. "Yes. That is the gist. As Dr. Martin said when he had his sessions with you, there is some sort of emotional and/or mental blockage that is making it difficult for you to access the Intersect."

"So...and this isn't me being confrontational or bitter, I promise...you wanted me to not tell Ellie and Awesome about all of this in the beginning for their safety and mine. And now suddenly when you think it might help, it's okay?"

Beckman and Casey looked at one another and then back at him.

"Yes," she said. "But it isn't that simple," she continued as he rolled his eyes. "The last six months have proven to be incredibly difficult, having you living with two other occupants in your apartment who didn't know about the Intersect, having to keep it all under wraps. The fact that they're very important to you, they are your family, and are both annoyingly observant and involved in your life, it made it that much harder for you, for Agents Casey and Walker…" Chuck wanted to glare at her for the 'annoyingly' part, but the fact was that she was sort of right.

"So what you're saying is...Sooner or later, they're gonna find out anyway. Might as well control when they find out and how." Chuck looked between them.

"Basically," Casey piped up. "You're really hard to deal with...all the mood swings and the feelings an' shit. Bringing Ellie in on this gives me a reason to throw you at somebody else when you're all...up in your feels. Or whatever."

"Up in my feels?" Chuck asked. "Have you been watching MTV or something, Casey?"

"Shut up."

"Both of you shut up," Beckman said slowly, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. She moved to sit on the edge of the table then, looking Chuck dead in his eye. "You have a lot you have to worry about right now with training and...only currently having one trainer at the moment." He felt a raw ache make itself known in his chest and he diverted his gaze. "This would add one more thing onto your plate—telling your sister and her fiancé. But the hope is that perhaps it might lessen the burden. Lighten your load. That would give you two more people you don't have to lie to or sneak around."

He was getting the hint the general was throwing at him, without her actually having to say the words. _Just_ Ellie and Awesome. It made sense. Morgan was...perhaps a little less reliable. But it still left him slightly miffed.

Chuck hid it, though, just nodding instead. Because they were letting him open the door to let his sister and one of his best friends in on a secret he'd been keeping from them for so long it had started to eat away at him. Legitimately. Every thing he had to talk around to make Ellie okay with whatever he was doing, the times he hurt her because she could tell he was keeping stuff from her. This would explain all of it for her.

And then… Well, he wasn't unrealistic or stupid. And he knew Ellie wasn't just going to be all hunky-dory about him being an agent with a supercomputer database in his brain. This was going to be an incredible shock to her. And to Awesome. She was going to want to shake him for deciding to join the NSA, for deciding to be a spy. It was dangerous. He'd get himself killed. All the same things Sarah had yelled at him in the car over two weeks ago after he'd told her.

He let himself get caught up on that, then. That was supposed to have been a date, a real date. And it ended in this. Him sitting here with only one of his original handlers, and Sarah off somewhere on a mission on her own. Beckman had given her the space and time she needed after she raged at her about letting him do this, the same way she'd done to Chuck and Casey. Chuck didn't know what was said, but Sarah'd been gone just like that, with no one giving him details about what she was doing or whether he could contact her, or how. And now, two weeks later, he was almost sure she wasn't coming back.

Chuck had taken this step in large part for her. Not just to be with her, but to be the type of man who deserved her—or more appropriately, deserved her more than he had before. Nobody could ever really _deserve_ Agent Sarah Walker. But the fact of the matter was, Chuck Bartowski—non-spy Chuck Bartowski—could never deserve or hope to even be with Agent Sarah Walker. She was his handler, and he was her asset. By making this decision, he'd opened that door for them. They'd be partners. And…

Well, it wasn't worth dwelling over it now. None of it had turned out the way he planned. And he knew there wasn't an agent replacing Sarah yet because Beckman and Casey wanted to keep the spot open for her should she decide to come back after the mission, should she decide to work with him and with Casey again. A team, like they were before. Only...not quite the same. He would actually be trained this time, capable of taking care of himself. He might actually get out of the car.

"If you're amenable to this, we'd like you to get it done as soon as possible."

Chuck froze, lifting his gaze up to General Beckman. "I'm sorry but please stop talking about this like it's as simple as...telling my sister I've decided to get a tattoo." She frowned at that. "She's not going to be happy. Awesome? He's...well, he's probably going to do one of his 'That's awesome, high five bro!' things," he said, holding his hand up excitedly. "But Ellie? Over six months of lies…?"

"You were protecting her. We all were," Beckman reasoned.

"Come on, General. You guys all thrive on saying things are complicated and now you wanna make this out like it's the simplest thing in the world. Well, it isn't."

"So you...don't wanna tell her? I'm confused," Casey muttered, sitting up straight and giving him a look.

"I d—Yes, of course I do. I've been wanting to tell her from the beginning. I'm just—It isn't that easy. You want me to do it ASAP and whatever but it's going to take some…" He sighed, seeing their blank looks. It wasn't worth trying to explain. "I'll do it."

"It was never going to be easy, Chuck. No matter when you told them," Beckman said quietly after giving it a few seconds.

"Maybe not. But lying to her for six months versus telling her right off the bat? There is a big difference there."

The general sighed and nodded. "All right," she said in a tone that belied she'd just made up her mind on something. "We'll do it your way." She stood up straight again and turned to face him head on, lifting an eyebrow. "However you see fit to tell your sister and her fiancé about the Intersect, about joining our team...we'll support it."

"Barring...top secret stuff, though, right General?" Casey asked, his eyes wide. He sat up a bit straighter, eyes flicking back and forth between them.

"Yes. Obviously, just giving them a general summary of the Intersect Project, of your training. Don't flash for them and give them the whereabouts of Area 51 and the alien autopsy reports," she deadpanned.

Chuck gaped. "Wait. Hold on, do-do we have—?"

"No," she said, giving him a look like she couldn't believe he'd actually taken her seriously.

"Oh."

"Idiot," Casey groused.

"Now, I have a special phone call to make. Gentlemen…" She nodded at them and walked out of the conference room.

"Do you think she's calling Sarah?" Chuck asked. "She sent her on that mission, right? She gave her the mission. Do you think Sarah's back yet? Think she's done?"

Casey just grunted in annoyance and walked out of the room. "Just tell your sister the truth so that I can make her deal with those questions."

"But I haven't told her _yet_ , Casey," he called out, following after the NSA agent, his trainer. "So do you think you can answer?"

"No."

Chuck grumbled to himself, before wracking his brain for a way to tell Ellie without getting murdered. This was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, and God, it'd be such a relief to get it off his back.

}o{

"Bro, I gotta tell ya...this was easily the best Domino's pizza you've ever ordered," Awesome said, wiping his fingers on a napkin and dropping it on his empty plate. Chuck watched his soon-to-be brother-in-law sit back against his chair and burp into his fist in satisfaction. "I might have to add a few miles to my bike ride tomorrow but totes worth it."

He chuckled and nodded. "Thanks, Awesome. I really felt like treating you two tonight, ya know? You do so much for me. Letting me stay in your apartment with you all these years...looking out for me. It means a lot," he said, feeling himself starting to project nervous energy.

Ellie had been silently watching him this whole time, too. He could feel her piercing but still warm gaze on him, and he studiously avoided it. He knew he wouldn't be able to for much longer.

"What's going on, Chuck?"

Like, right now, for instance.

"Babe. Yeeesh, come on," Devon chuckled. "Chuck just wanted to treat us to dinner. Not everything has some ulterior motive." He gave Chuck a look and a "pfft". Ellie just ignored him, though, still staring at her brother.

"Um." He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Not-Not an ulterior motive, per se. But there is...something I wanted to talk to you about. Both of you together. And I thought I might as well provide dinner while I was at it. So, I think in a way, you're both right—"

"Chuck, what is it? Just tell us. Is it Sarah?"

Shit. He'd tried so hard not to think about that. It would only make this harder for him to get out if he was dwelling on Sarah who still hadn't shown up, who still wasn't answering his calls, who still hadn't said a peep to any of them except for her superior who she _had_ to report to for her mission, he assumed. He didn't know for sure because he hadn't talked to her at all.

"No. No, no. Not Sarah." Ellie sighed, and it was like a weight was off of her shoulders. Ellie liked Sarah a lot, he knew. And it hurt everything in him that he might have to tell her that he'd fucked that up with his decision to be a spy too, on top of the rest of the shit Ellie'd be pissed about after this. "Though, she's...a part of it. A part of what I have to tell you."

"What is it, bro? Hey, we got your back." Devon reached over and smacked a strong, reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "Me and you are gonna be family, pretty soon here, huh?" He beamed.

"Awesome, I have news for ya. We've been family for a while now. Just not, you know, not on paper."

Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought the blonde got misty right then, pressing his lips together hard.

"Chuck…" Ellie warned.

"Sorry. Right. The-The thing I have to tell you. It's…" He huffed. Thankfully they both just stared at him, watching, waiting, giving him time. He could see Ellie swirling her red wine in his peripheral, however, and he knew she wouldn't wait all night. "Do you remember… Do you remember Bryce Larkin?"

"That guy who fucked up your college career? Same one who just died last year?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah. Him. Except…" He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, then raised his gaze to her, to Devon, to both of them. "Except that he's not dead."

Ellie stared at him. "Ellie, I have a lot to tell you, and it will be easier if I can just say it all." She nodded. "No interruptions?" She shook her head and he took a deep breath. "It all started after my birthday party…"

}o{

Chuck glanced at the clock. It had been over an hour since he sat down across from them at the table and devoured his slices of pizza before his stomach had time to clench with nerves and not allow him to digest.

In that time, he'd managed to bring both his sister and her new fiancé up to date. For the most part. He left out the bits where he'd almost died. And maybe he might've been more transparent about that if Ellie hadn't nearly fallen out of her chair when he told her about the Intersect.

She was quiet now. She hadn't been as quiet while he spoke, even though she'd promised no interruptions. And really, he couldn't blame her. There was a lot of loud, "WHAT?!" And "if this is some kind of joke…"

Now she just sat staring at her hands folded on the table. "I don't understand," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If Bryce...If he wanted to protect you, why in the hell did he—Why did he—?" She didn't seem to know how to finish it, or maybe there was some sort of obstruction in her throat.

"I still don't know why he sent the Intersect to me of all people. But I-I mean to make the most of it, Ellie."

"Well, he didn't give you a choice!" she snapped, sitting up straight again and leaning in. "Either you comply with this-this general lady or...what? They put you in a bunker? In some kind of underground prison where they manipulate you and your brain to their purpose?"

Chuck winced. "Back in the beginning of all of this, I was as untrusting as you are now. Well, through most of it, if I'm being honest. But El, I trust them now."

"And Sarah?"

The silence stretched through the room, and Chuck found himself meeting Awesome's blue gaze. There was understanding there, and reassurance, but the blonde also looked like he was having trouble computing all of it. He really had given them a lot of startling information.

"What...about her?" Chuck asked, swallowing hard.

"This entire time you've been pretending to be all cozy and together for our benefit, lying to me about everything you've been going through—Don't." She held up a hand. "Don't interrupt me. I didn't interrupt you." Chuck exchanged a bit of a look with Awesome, because she really, really had interrupted him. Quite a lot. But thankfully she didn't catch their look. They'd both be turned to ash if she had. "And she lied about...about everything. I get it. I get she had to. And it was probably a lot easier for her to do it than it was for you. I get that, too." Chuck found himself shaking his head. She must've seen it. "What?" she asked. "What's the head shaking? This woman I thought was my brother's girlfriend, this woman I thought was my friend, is actually a CIA agent tasked with protecting you and lying to everyone else. I'm supposed to believe her lying to me wasn't easy?"

"It isn't as simple as you're making it out to be, El." She gave him a flat look. "It isn't. Sarah...She's been a lifeline for me through all of this. You'd normally be the person I'd go to for everything, but they made it seem like I'd be putting you in insane danger if I went to you, so I went to her instead, because she...made herself available for that. Even though it...Well, it wasn't a part of her job. Her door was always open when it didn't have to be. And she… I mean, not all of it was a lie."

Ellie stared at him for a while. "Hm."

"What?" he asked tiredly.

She pursed her lips. "I've been sitting here—You know, after I came to terms with the horrible, insane, weird, straight out of a Terminator movie stuff you were telling me, a-about this...Intersect...about Bryce...about everything you've been doing right under my nose these last six months… After all of that sort of settled in my mind, I keep going back and going over certain things with Sarah. And you. Wondering if she's just _that_ good at acting, pretending."

Chuck stared, then looked at Awesome. He was looking at his fiancée much in the same way: questioning. "What do you mean? She's the best at...all of it. All of the spying…stuff."

Ellie narrowed her eyes and leaned her chin in her palm. "Hm."

"What hm?"

"It-It just… You're a terrible actor, Chuck. No offense. I saw you in Fiddler on the Roof, and I love you, brother, but I saw right through you."

He frowned as Awesome hissed and muttered, "Harsh."

"Sorry." She winced. "But that doesn't matter right now anyway...What matters is you're not a great actor and I don't think you were acting when we were talking, the two of us, about...the two of you." She paused. "I really like Sarah, but I obviously don't know her at all. I mean, less than I already did. Granted, I just thought she was a super private person but I know now that she's a freaking spy." She threw her hands up. "C'est la vie? Can I use that for this?" Both Chuck and Awesome shrugged. "Whatever. What-What I'm trying to get at is that I don't know if anyone could ever be that good at acting, whether they're a trained spy or not, Chuck."

Chuck sighed and looked down at the table. "I don't know, Ellie. I don't know how to respond to that."

"Is it real?"

Awesome sat up straighter. "Oh, shit. Bro…"

He huffed and pushed his hands through his hair.

"I feel like that's our answer," his soon-to-be brother-in-law muttered. "Bro, whoa…a spy, huh?"

"Devon, have some tact for just a second," Ellie said, putting her hand on his bicep. He clammed up quick and cleared his throat, squirming in his seat. "Are you two...really dating? Under the, uh, the fake dating?" She shook her head and raised her eyebrows. "This is all too much."

"Wait, wait. Wait. Stop. It isn't…" He sighed. "I don't know how to tell you. I mean, I don't know...I just don't know. Anymore."

"Anymore? What are you talking about?" Then she frowned. "Wait. Now that you're telling us about this Intersect and the government protecting you and using the...flashes or whatever to help them get, quote, bad guys, unquote… Is Sarah leaving? Are they assigning some other person to you? Does us knowing change all of that? The, uh, assignment? Am I even making sense?"

"Not really," Awesome mumbled.

"Uh…" Chuck tried a bit more tact than it seemed Awesome was capable of. Maybe he'd broken his brain a bit with all of this.

Ellie sent her fiancé a dark look and he winced with a small shrug.

"Sarah isn't—Well I mean, she wasn't…" Chuck tried. "I don't know now. I've really...screwed the pooch."

Ellie just stared. "How?"

"There's...just one last...little part to this…? Um...that you should know." They both looked scared, but there was a hint of excitement mixed with the fear in Awesome's eyes and Chuck didn't know what to do with that. "Ellie? Awesome? I was given an opportunity by General Beckman, by the government. A really, really good opportunity…"

"Wait, have we moved past the Sarah thing? Because I still want to know if the real thing was happening under the pretend thing. You didn't really give a satisfactory answer to that," Awesome said, holding up a finger. Ellie elbowed him. "What? He didn't. Don't you wanna know? She was _your_ friend, too."

Ellie looked like she did want to know, but she just gave a small shake of her head and turned back to Chuck. "What do you mean, a good opportunity? What kind of opportunity can they give you that isn't taking that shitty program out of your brain so you can get back to your life and not be in danger every single day?"

"Well? I mean, keep in mind, at any point any one of us could get into a car accident or have blue ice fall out of a plane and onto our heads. You know?" She full-on glared at him and he cleared his throat. "A job opportunity," he answered. "Which is...why...I brought up...I mean, Sarah's not super happy with me about it—"

She raised her eyebrows. "Like, as an analyst? They've recognized how good you are with computers and now they want you to do analysis for them? Some desk job in downtown LA? Filing papers? Sarah's mad about you filing papers, right? You're gonna have to fill it in at some point, Chuck, because I'm starting to spiral…"

If she'd just give him a chance…

"I'm gonna be an NSA agent. They're training me and everything. And when training is done, I'll be the Intersect and be able to actually use my...why are you looking at me like that? Awesome? Awesome, please hold onto her...Ellie, don't kill me…Wait for me to explain..."

Thankfully Awesome did grab onto her shoulders. His sister's face was turning red, and, frankly, so were her eyes, her jaw clenching.

"An...NSA...agent?" she asked through gritted teeth. " _That's_ an opportunity? An opportunity for what? Death?"

"N-No. Ellie, I'll be safer as a trained agent. I can protect myself."

"Oh, good! Good, that makes me feel a lot better." The sarcasm was mixed with rage, and it really was a horrific combination in Eleanor Faye Bartowski. "ARE YOU CRAZY?!" she yelled.

"El, hey...Hey, let 'im get it out," Awesome tried, but she outright ignored him, shrugging his hands off of her and leaning in.

"You think you're some kind of superhero? What happens when those guys who shoot at people in your spy movies start shooting at you? Does that Intersect thing block bullets?" He shook his head minutely. "Yeah, I didn't think so. What in the hell are you thinking? You call up that general and tell her no."

"I'm not going to do that, Ellie. I've made the decision already. _I_ made it. On my own."

Her jaw twitched, and then she dropped her gaze to the table, reaching up to rub her temple with one hand. "Why would you do this, Chuck? Why are Casey and Sarah going along with this? Isn't that the whole point of them being sent here? To protect you? To protect the Intersect? And they're just letting you throw yourself into a lion's den like this?"

"I've been in the lion's den, Ellie. That's what all of this has been this whole time. I was yanked into this spy world whether I liked it or not. Bryce didn't give me a decision then. They've given me one now. It was either...either go into the NSA, train to become a full-fledged agent, a spy, or…" He paused.

"Or what, Chuck?"

Chuck sighed. "Or keep being the guy who was kicked out of Stanford and works at a dead-end job at the Buy More, lives with his sister and her boyfriend, can't even afford a car, for fuck's sake."

"Who are you trying to impress, Chuck?"

An ache went through his chest as she pushed up from the table and started pacing, one hand on her hip, the other pressed against her forehead. Worry creased her brow, her lips pressed into a serious, thin line.

He didn't really know how to answer that question. There were a lot of answers. "Nobody, El. It isn't about trying to impress anyone. It's about reaching my fullest potential. It's about helping innocent people."

"Go work for the Peace Corp!" she barked, spinning on her heel. "Do Meals on Wheels! Volunteer for a political campaign! Tutor some underprivileged students! All of those things are better than this. They're safer than this!"

"Look, I've decided, okay? Whether you support me in this or not, it's happening. If I'm gonna have to be in this spy world anyway, I want to be able to make the most difference, help as many people as I can. If I'm trained, I won't have to rely on handlers. I won't be just an asset anymore. I'm a part of a team." A team missing one integral member, he inwardly reminded himself, and the ache came back. This time it felt like he'd been kicked in the chest and he looked down at the table.

"I have a question." Awesome tentatively raised his hand. "If...If you're so stoked about being a spy, Chuck, why do you look like someone kicked your dog right now?"

"Well, his sister isn't too happy with him at the moment, Devon."

"Nah. You've been unhappy with him before—"

Chuck ran a hand over his face as Ellie and Awesome began to argue with one another as he sat there in front of them. He waited a minute, just dwelling, thinking about the look on Sarah's face when he'd last seen her. He remembered watching her disappear inside of Maison23. He remembered the determined way she'd walked away from him, the door slamming shut behind her. And he thought maybe that had been the last time he'd ever see her. Because he wasn't honest from the get-go like he should've been.

He wasn't making that mistake with his family.

"I think she's gone."

The argument stopped and both Ellie and Awesome slowly turned to look at him. Awesome blinked. "Huh? Who?"

"Sarah."

Ellie came back to the table and sat down, leaning in. "What do you mean, you think she's gone. Gone where?"

"I don't know where. Beckman gave her a solo mission and that was a few weeks ago now. She should've been back and she...isn't back. I don't think she's gonna be back at this point." He shut his eyes tightly and then snapped them open again, pushing his hands through his hair. "I think she's gone."

Ellie shivered, looking like she might be sick. "Nobody's heard from her? Is she...okay? Is she safe?"

Chuck didn't dwell too hard on the worry in his sister's voice. "No, no. Not like that. She's okay. The mission's over. I just think she's not coming back because of...me."

"Well, what'd you do?" Awesome asked.

"This." He gestured with both hands thrust out, palm up.

"What, telling us?" Ellie asked. "She really didn't want you to tell us that much?"

"No, no. Not-Not that. I think she wanted you both to know about it, you especially Ellie. I think it started to get hard for her to keep all of this a secret from you, like it was hard for me." He wasn't looking at his sister, but if he had been, he would've seen a switch go off in her green eyes, almost a softness. It might've made this conversation a bit easier for him if he had seen it. "I mean, my decision to become an agent. My decision to train with Casey to be a spy with the NSA."

"Oh. She thinks you should be training with the CIA. Is that why?" Awesome asked.

"No, no." He shook his head. "I kept it from her. I made Casey swear he wouldn't tell her either once I decided this was the path I was going to take. I didn't tell her. Lying by omission, as they say. And she's angry with me. More than angry. I think she's fed up. With me. I was just so nervous to tell her, because I…" He halted, the truth about not wanting to hear or see her doubt in his ability to do this stilling in his throat. "I had these plans, you know? I wasn't gonna be her asset anymore. I'm making something of myself. And things-things are gonna change. And it was a lot. She is worried about it, probably, and frustrated that I'm going to be completely in the spy world. I am going in the...in the opposite direction than she… I don't really know. I don't know because she never talked to me about it. She won't talk to me. She's left and she isn't...coming back. I've fucked up."

Without warning, Ellie burst out of her chair to her feet again. "She wasn't acting! She really does care about you, Chuck!"

"Hu-What?"

"I knew I saw something. This whole time, I've been upset, thinking all of the things she said, all of the looks she gave you when she thought no one was looking, were all just her being clinically good at being a spy. But it was all real. She was assigned to protect you and pretend to be your girlfriend, and she grew to genuinely care about you. She spent six months of her life protecting you, making sure nothing bad happened to you. And now you make this damned boneheaded decision to put yourself in even more danger! Of course she's not talking to you! Of course she's pissed! I'm pissed, too! Only difference is I'm your big sister and I'm forced to stick around."

"Wow, El. Thanks."

"Shut up, Chuck! Quit the sarcasm. Drop the witty one-liners. Wisen up!" Chuck blinked as she raised her voice. "I get it, okay? You aren't changing your mind about this. You wanna be James Bond or whatever, go out there and save the day and wear the fitted suits and hold the gun. But the real world isn't James Bond, Chuck. There are horrible people out there and she's been a spy for...I don't, I don't her history. But longer than you! And she probably knows how unsafe it _really_ is. What you're doing is stupid! I have to stand by and support you as best I can because you're an adult and you make your own decisions—I can't and won't stop you. But I'm going to tell you what you need to hear anyway, and that's that you've been really _stupid_ , Chuck!"

"Ellie, I—"

"No, you listen to me." She slammed her palms on the table and leaned in over him. "You think you aren't worth anything, working at the Buy More as the Nerd Herd supervisor, not owning your own car, having been kicked out of college, no girlfriend—or I guess, not a _real_ one. But that's bullshit, Chuck! You're a good man."

"And what's that worth, Ellie? Seriously." He calmly met her hard gaze with a determined one of his own. "At the end of the day, what am I worth? After a nine hour shift standing behind that stupid desk, knowing there's more out there that I could be doing to protect people? Well, I passed on a chance to do some real good, but at least I'm a 'good man'." He tossed up air quotes.

"Stop it. You're belittling yourself. Again."

"That's just it, Ellie! If I do this— _When_ I do this, I'm gonna be worth more. I'll be able to do more. I can look in the mirror and _see_ more! I'm tired of being this. I'm tired of being afraid of the Intersect and the life it thrust me into. I want to use it to its fullest potential. I want to reach my fullest potential. People might not think I can do it," he said, his fears about Sarah rearing to life in his chest, constricting his ribcage. "But I want to try anyway. I need to try anyway."

Ellie growled and pulled back, ruffling her hair in frustration as she walked to the doors that led out to the patio and stopped, gazing out into the dark courtyard. "And you're throwing away your chance at a regular life."

"Do they know of any way to get that thing out of your head?" Awesome asked, crossing his arms. "The Intersect thingy, I mean." Chuck shook his head. "Are they even trying?" Chuck shrugged. "Well, if there's no assurance from these people that he will ever be able to live the life he had before this jerk dude put the Intersect in his head, what's Chuck got to lose with this, really? He just gonna wait around like this forever? Or take life by the horns?" He reached across the table and gave Chuck a supportive swipe of his hand across his bicep, winking. He at least had some semblance of an ally here.

Ellie sighed instead of snapping at her fiancé. Which he thought was somewhat of an improvement. But she just looked sad as she turned back, crossing her arms and slumping back against the door tiredly. "I know. You are trying to map out your own life in a way that Bryce giving you the Intersect took away from you. But this is _so dangerous_ , Chuck. And you're the only family I have left. I worked for years to keep you safe, worrying about you all the time, stressing over whether you were okay… And now you're diving headfirst into a life that… Any mission could be your last, Chuck." She paused and Chuck felt her words sinking in. It left him feeling cold. "What am I supposed to do when someone shows up at the door in a suit and tells me my brother's dead? Be happy because oooh, welll, at least he didn't feel like a deadbeat at the Buy Moooore…?" She shrugged helplessly. "Maybe I'm being selfish, but I don't want that for you."

Chuck shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I hate to sound harsh. But...whether you want it or not, that's how it's gonna be."

"And you threw away whatever the hell the confusing, complicated relationship you may or may not have with Sarah is for this? For _this_?" she asked, thrusting a hand out.

"That part wasn't...on purpose. I thought it…" He swallowed thickly. She gave him a questioning look. "I thought I was making it...less confusing. Less complicated. As part of the actual team, not the asset, but a real spy, a partner… I thought it'd make our...thing more of a thing." He winced at how idiotic that ended up sounding.

"You want to be with her?" she asked.

"Yeah. I do."

"You should've just said that. To her face. Instead of acting like a jackass and tiptoeing, making a decision like this without having a grown-up conversation first." He winced again, because even though Ellie didn't have all of the facts, even though part of him thought she was being harsh and a little unfair, she was also sort of hitting the nail on the head. He genuinely thought he was doing the right thing. "It's your life, Chuck. You were given an opportunity, you had a decision to make, and you deserve to make it however you see fit. Whether I think it's crazy and stupid or not." He sighed and rolled his eyes a little. "But you need to know how your decisions affect the people you care about. You can't ignore that. You need to tackle it. And if you're okay with all of it, so be it. I guess there's nothing any of us can say." She shrugged.

"That isn't fair, Ellie. I didn't just make this decision for me…" He trailed off, shaking his head. He didn't know how to proceed.

"You thought you were doing it for me? For us?" She gestured between her and Awesome. "Or did you think you were doing it for Sarah too?"

As Chuck stayed silent, Ellie finally sighed and shook her head. "Look, I have a lot to think about. I need to take a drive. I need to get out of here and be alone for a bit." She paused halfway to her purse, then glanced at him. "Don't worry. _I'll_ be coming back. You need someone who doesn't have some weird hero-complex," she sent Awesome a meaningful look that earned another wince, "to spout some truth at you." She grabbed her purse and walked to the door.

"Ellie, you can't—"

She turned at the door, grabbing her car keys. "What?" she interrupted. And then a nervous look came over her. "Now that you've told us this, are they—I mean, am I not allowed to leave the apartment? Am I trapped here?"

"No, of course not," Chuck said vehemently. "You're not in some sort of prison now that you know. I was given the green light telling you both because you're...trustworthy. That was the point."

She settled and nodded. "Good. I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

And then she was gone, leaving Chuck alone with his sister's fiancé, who leaned over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "She's gonna be fine, bro. It's all gonna be fine. You know Ellie. She always has to go off and be alone to let hard stuff settle." He patted his shoulder.

Silence pervaded for a few seconds, and then Awesome climbed up to his feet, came around the table, and sat right next to him, excitement permeating off of him. "Okay. Bro. Chuck. Tell me more about this spy stuff, huh?" He rubbed his hands together. "You need a work-out buddy?"

Chuck slumped over, his forehead thunking hard against the table top.

* * *

 **A/N:** Now you know why we're trying to get the next chapter out as quickly as possible. We're sincerely doing our best not to leave y'all with this cliffhanger for longer than necessary...aka how quickly SC can get her life in order to edit. Let us know what you think with a review! Thanks!

-SC and DC


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N:** Without further ado, we'll just let you read. Thanks for your reviews.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making money from this.

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Sarah blinked.

"E-Excuse me?" she tried.

Ellie just held out a hand. "Let me just save you the trouble of trying to keep up the ruse, Sarah. Chuck sat Devon and I down tonight and told us everything."

She felt herself gaping. Had Chuck simply had enough of the lies and did it anyway, in spite of what they'd all been telling him about how unsafe it would make his family for the last six months?

"Apparently, that...general woman, the NSA woman, um...Beckman, decided it was time." A wry look came over her face. "Over six months later."

Sarah didn't even know what to do with this information, so she just stood there numbly. General Beckman had approved Chuck telling his family about his being involved with the CIA and NSA and nobody had apparently seen fit to inform _her_ about this development? Not even a warning text?

"Look, I know you probably aren't sure what to say. I really sprang this on you. I just thought you would've known about this already, otherwise I wouldn't have come straight here like this. I-I'm sorry. It was the only place I could—I felt like I needed to be here, Sarah. So I just...I left and drove here." Sarah still didn't say anything, completely at a loss, and she watched as Ellie tentatively continued. "I didn't even know...if...you'd be here. And I thought you'd know by now that...I know." Sarah sent her a questioning look. "Everything."

A loud huff came out of Sarah; she didn't know if it was relief or something else. And she moved to her dresser, facing away from Ellie, leaning her palm on the top of it and letting her chin fall to her chest. "By everything, you mean… _everything_ everything?"

"Bryce being a spy? Sending Chuck this Intersect thing? Which...I'm not sure I'm ever really going to understand how it's even possible to do something like that, but I really have no choice but to believe it but only after thinking Chuck was playing an elaborate joke for a good twenty minutes…" Sarah couldn't find it within her to smirk like she normally would. "And this whole...joining the NSA thing."

She knew of a million other things that took precedence, other more important things she needed to ask Ellie, talk to Ellie about … and yet, she still asked this first: "So then you know...about me."

Ellie was silent for long enough that Sarah shifted her weight and glanced over her shoulder at the other woman. "Yes," Ellie said, hurt in her face. "I know. I know you were just on a mission. For the CIA. That this whole thing has been a mission for you. My brother...us...me." She shrugged.

No, not the whole thing, Sarah wanted to say as she turned to face Chuck's sister. The whole thing wasn't a mission. She needed to admit that to herself...again. And maybe she could find it within her to tell this woman the same thing. But instead, all she could say was, "Oh."

She owed Ellie so much more than that, and she shut her eyes in frustration, shaking her head at herself.

"You must...feel…" What? Betrayed? She found herself not wanting to say that word out loud. She'd felt betrayed by Chuck not telling her about his decision to become an NSA agent. She'd felt that betrayal down to her very soul. And yet, Ellie'd just learned her brother had been keeping something this massive from her for over six months. She couldn't even imagine how she felt.

"Like I've been kicked in the gut over and over and over and over? Yeah." Ellie tucked some hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry," Sarah burst out. "I'm sorry about all of this, Ellie." She took a step closer. "I'm so sorry. But it was for your…" She paused at the flat look Ellie seemed to unconsciously send her way. "Right. I won't...say that. You've probably heard it from Chuck a million times tonight. That he was—that we were trying to keep you safe."

"Yeah." Ellie sighed. "I've heard it. But what I don't think he understands, in spite of my trying to tell him—I dunno, maybe I just didn't use my words right—is that this whole time, yeah, maybe I was safer physically, but I was trapped in this mindset that something really bad was going on in that guy's head, in his heart, and he wasn't comfortable telling me about it. I didn't know if I should push or...if I did, if I'd be pushing him away. Wondering if all the shit from our childhood was finally catching up to him and he was...depressed or...on the verge of snapping and having a nervous breakdown or something. I had no idea. And I guess I was just clinging to the fact that he was with a good woman at least, someone who could help him see his worth. But even that wasn't…"

Ellie didn't have to finish. It wasn't real, she was going to say. Sarah felt stinging at the backs of her eyes. She rubbed her clammy hands down her jeans and shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Well. He found enough worth in himself to...take a pretty big step."

"Is that what we're calling it?" Ellie gave Sarah a wry look, eyebrow raised.

"I don't know what else to call it," Sarah admitted with a shrug.

"Before we get into all of that, can I ask you something?"

Sarah could tell by the look on Ellie's face that whatever she meant to ask would probably cause her to have to dive headfirst into whatever this conversation was going to end up being. But she nodded anyway, because she supposed Ellie deserved to ask questions.

"When I was out there driving around in circles trying to figure out what to do with everything Chuck told me, the thing I kept wondering was how you managed to sit there on all those double dates, those family dinners and holidays, and be okay with looking at my brother like that, touching him, you know? Saying those things to him, and about him, when it was just you and me...and all that time, you never actually...felt that way. How does someone do that? How do you train a human being to be able to do something like that?"

Sarah hung her head in the silence. "It-It's just...what I had to do. For the job. To...keep everyone safe."

"And what about you?" Sarah looked up at Chuck's sister, confusion in her face. "What'd you do to keep yourself safe in the meantime?" She crossed her arms, Sarah still not really getting where she was going with that. "You pretend to love someone long enough, Sarah… Well, I mean, spy or not, you're a human being. You're a real person."

Sarah felt the power of that in her chest, and she found herself leaning heavily against the dresser behind her. _You're a human being. You're a real person._

And maybe that was why she liked Ellie as much as she did. Maybe that was why she liked being around her. Casey, Beckman, Graham while he was still alive, and even Chuck… they all knew she was a spy, and they looked at her through that lens. Ellie didn't know she was a spy. She just thought she was a woman who loved Chuck. She saw her without that lens of knowing she was with the CIA. And it had been comforting, hadn't it? Being around someone who simply didn't know her in that way. Who knew her in a...different way. A more real way.

That was over.

And Sarah found it hurt. It hurt almost as bad as the last few weeks had hurt. Or perhaps it just hurt in a different way.

"You mean...how didn't I...end up having...feelings for him. Right?" Sarah asked quietly.

"I couldn't have done that. If I were in your shoes, if it was Devon with the Intersect. Even with training." She huffed then, waving her hand dismissively. "I probably sound so naive to you. I'm sure in your line of work, you have to do whatever you can to...I don't know...complete a mission."

"I didn't do it."

There was that heavy silence again. For a good twenty seconds. And then Ellie muttered a quiet, "What?"

"I didn't get through all of that without...slipping. I mean, losing my footing."

Ellie stared at her hard, and then there was a switch in her features, a smidgeon of warmth or...relief. She didn't know. She couldn't read Ellie as well as she usually could. Maybe because all of this was screwing up her ability to do...anything. She hadn't expected Ellie to show up at her door. And especially not with...this extra knowledge. She rolled her eyes at herself in her mind.

"I didn't think you did. I mean, I had my doubts."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"Remember that one night you came to our apartment and Chuck had to stay a bit later at the Buy More to clean up after those Jeff and Lester freaks or whatever so I made you have a glass of wine with me?" Ellie nervously ran her hand down her shirt. Sarah nodded. She remembered. Because Ellie had asked her a pretty pointed question that night. And she'd not known how to answer. "I asked you if you thought Chuck was living up to his fullest potential at the Buy More, if you thought he could be happy doing that for the rest of his life."

Sarah nodded again.

"I kept thinking about that when I was driving around. You wanna know what finally made me turn around and drive all the way here?" Sarah met her eyes. "You very clearly didn't know how to answer. I could see it written on your face, Sarah. You looked so uncomfortable and I felt like such a jerk, putting you on the spot like that. You wanted to stick up for him. I could see that, too. Like you were looking for a way to explain to me that he was just fine the way he was." She shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I'm completely wrong. Because then you told me that Chuck deserves better than the Buy More. And as I was driving around, I just...I couldn't believe that was anything less than real. What would be the point of pretending there, saying those things? What kind of...cover would you be protecting? Unless that was just you being completely honest with me."

Sarah took a deep breath. This family would be the death of her. She was sure. She blinked a few times, fighting back nervous tears. And then she swallowed and nibbled on the inside of her cheek, before she finally sighed. "I didn't realize I was being so transparent, I guess. And I suppose that's really been the story of my life lately." She let out a mirthless one syllable chuckle, then sobered up.

"Ellie, I kept a lot from you. And I'm sorry. Saying it was a part of my job isn't an excuse; it's an explanation, I guess. But a lot of those moments were real. You Bartowskis have a real way of making a spy feel like...well, more than a spy. It's hard to be less than honest in that situation. As much as I felt...super uncomfortable."

Ellie sniffed in amusement and scratched the back of her neck. "Yeah, I could tell you were uncomfortable. And here I was just thinking you were a private person, not used to people like us."

"I'm definitely not used to people like you, Chuck, Devon...even Morgan. Not even after all these months."

"You mean people who pry?" Ellie asked with a knowing smirk.

"People who care enough to pry," she answered, meeting Ellie's gaze steadily.

She watched as tentative understanding overcame the brunette's features, and then Ellie shook her head. "I can't believe my friend is a spy. That's just crazy to me. Sent here to protect my brother who has a super-computer in his brain. Something that...that puts a target on his back. How did he keep it from me all this time?"

"Fear for your safety," Sarah said, trying to get past the fact that Ellie had just called her "my friend". And she felt the need to add, "It ripped him to shreds not telling you." And it ripped her to shreds watching him. It was way too much of a reveal for her to say that part out loud, though.

"I'm so pissed at him. I get it, and maybe I'm being unfair, but I'm still so pissed. I can't help it. It's just how I feel." Her lower lip quivered a bit, but she kept control.

"I understand that. And I understand how angry you must be at me, too. Lying to you all this time." Ellie just shrugged noncommittally. "When I was supposed to be your friend." She got another shrug, but the other woman wasn't looking at her. "All I can say is that I'm sorry for the part I played in all of that. I was one of the people who persuaded him not to tell you, to keep it all from you."

"I'm sure it's hard enough protecting someone like Chuck Bartowski without adding me and Devon into the mix. He's such a…" She shut her eyes and sighed. "God, I love him, but I can't imagine he made any of this easy on you."

"Of course not," Sarah said immediately, and she was surprised by the sudden chuckle from his sister. She felt herself smile a little. "He has a really pesky altruistic streak that's both fucking _infuriating_ and insanely admirable and endearing all at once." She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, twisting them to the side, feeling incredibly vulnerable suddenly.

"I can see that. And I can see how much worse he's going to be once they do whatever this...training is...with him," Ellie said. Sarah watched the fury come back. "That total idiot. That complete and total idiot. Honestly, out of everything he told me, that was the one thing I could've hit him for. God damn it."

"Tell me about it," Sarah breathed, her filter breaking for just a moment.

"So...you really didn't have any part in that." Ellie was giving her a searching look.

The CIA agent held her hands up and took a step closer. "I had nothing to do with it. To the point where they all...did it behind my back, kept me in the dark. The offer was made without consulting me. He accepted the offer without talking to me about it. Cas—Agent Casey kept it from me, too. Maybe because I'm CIA and…" Well, maybe she shouldn't go through all of that with Chuck's sister. She imagined he would've side-stepped the most dangerous implications of Operation Bartowski—including Graham's potential betrayal, and how they'd all grown to distrust him over the past few months, the director of the CIA, for God's sake. Ellie might freak out...just a little. "And maybe there's some history of...competition between the NSA and the CIA. I don't know." She shrugged. She felt bad, but even if she was insurmountably angry at Chuck right now, she didn't want to get him in too deep of water with his sister. She'd let him handle that all on his own.

"Why did he do this? Why did he lie to you? What a complete ass. I swear to God, he is capable of such unmitigated stupidity." She rubbed her temples and growled in frustration. Then she broadsided her completely. "You're packing to leave. Not on a mission, but for good. Aren't you?"

Sarah gaped again, then turned to look at the suitcase. "I…"

"That's a yes," Ellie said wryly, smiling in spite of the implications.

"No, it—It's a…" She huffed and shrugged. "I was leaning towards it. Heavily. I can't just wait around here for Chuck to…"

"Get himself killed? You don't have to tiptoe, Sarah. I've been driving around for a while. Trust me, I've come up with every possible scenario and an early death is the end of every single one of them. Having to bury my brother before I'm even forty." She looked angry still, but also like she was worried sick.

Sarah's discomfort with all of this was pushed aside by genuine concern then, and she moved to Ellie's side, taking her gently by the arm and walking her to sit on the end of her bed. She sat next to her, tucking her hands back into her lap and twisting them, uncomfortable and nervous again. "I've...gone through those scenarios in my own head. I can't watch it happen."

"Except your scenarios are probably very real, considering you're the one with the spying experience, huh? And if you're so against this, it really underscores for me just how bad of an idea it is." Ellie let out a long breath through pursed lips and blinked rapidly. Sarah kept her hands tucked in her lap still as the other woman managed not to cry. "You should've seen him, sitting there, justifying it to me so sincerely. Does he…?" She turned to Sarah then and gripped her arm tightly. "Does he really know what he's getting into? Does he understand what he's getting himself into?"

Sarah was silent for a few moments. And then… "No. I don't think so."

"Did you tell him that?" Ellie asked, almost sounding desperate as her grip tightened.

"I did." And suddenly, Ellie's involvement was making Chuck's decision even more of a damn mistake, and Sarah's anger multiplied. "He's so fucking thoughtless sometimes." Ellie was silent as Sarah shook her head. "He doesn't think things through. He just jumps in with both feet. And every single time I'm there, or Casey's there, to make sure nothing bad happens to him. He doesn't get that we aren't always going to be there. And now he wants to be a spy?" She grunted and shoved her hand through her hair. "He thinks it's gonna be so easy and he doesn't even know the half of what this job entails. He's so naive about this whole thing and it makes me feel so crazy…"

"So you're leaving."

Sarah could hear a note of confusion, and maybe Ellie was blaming her for it a little, too. She wasn't sure. She tried not to be offended or hurt by it. "It isn't that easy…"

"Oh God, Sarah. No offense. But if one more person says some iteration of 'it isn't that easy' to me today, I'm going to murder somebody." She froze then. "Probably isn't something I should say to a CIA agent, huh?"

In spite of everything, Sarah snorted. "Speaking as...as a CIA agent…" Someone who had killed more people than she'd ever feel comfortable telling anybody, let alone Ellie. "I get it. I can't blame you for it. You've really been through the wringer tonight."

"Please just be honest with me, Sarah. Why are you leaving?"

Sarah understood part of the implication, and she knew Ellie understood it too. She was packing to leave for good, and she most likely had no intention of telling Ellie goodbye first. She wondered if that hurt the other woman. She had to understand that telling her friend she was leaving, the implication of her and Chuck breaking up, facing Ellie's confusion and hurt… God, she couldn't stomach it. Nobody would be able to stomach that. Trained spy or not.

Sarah's shoulders slumped a little and she took a deep breath. She decided to drop the spy front...if only for one last time...and let her head fall into her hands. She felt a tentative hand on her upper back, just draped there, reassuringly. It was more than she deserved, and wasn't that how things always were with the Bartowskis?

Pushing her hands through her hair, she leaned her elbows on her knees and just stared at her dresser across the room, slumped forward, Ellie's hand staying on her back.

"I don't know how to do this, Ellie. I don't think I can. Not anymore. I've reached the breaking point." The hand moved a little, then slipped right back into place again. "From the beginning, all Chuck's talked about is wanting to go back, wanting to be a regular guy again, have a normal life. And I've fought for that, tooth and nail, with every last fiber of my being. I've tried so hard to protect him. Half a year, keeping him safe, trying to keep him from completely melting down, from just...breaking. The way anyone weaker might've by now. He's driven me crazy in so many ways, but it's been so worth it. Really, it has. And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, he decides to do something that'll take him...on a completely opposite path from the one I thought he wanted so badly, the one I fought to get him to all this time. I don't get it," she breathed, shaking her head.

"I can't imagine what it must've been like, having to deal with my brother for six months…" Sarah turned and gave Ellie a slightly amused, questioning look. "I mean, I've dealt with him for twenty-six years, I know. But… That just means I know better than anyone how much trouble he must've given you, and John."

Sarah huffed, shaking her head with a wry smile. "So much trouble. It's been kind of endless." Then she looked at Ellie again. "But I meant it when I said it was worth it. To keep him safe, to make sure he was okay...it's been so worth it."

"He's the only family I've got left, Sarah. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you saying that."

She smiled at Chuck's sister. "I don't get how you don't absolutely hate me right now. First lying to you about who I am, and now...leaving just as the shit hits the fan." She sat up and shook her head.

"I don't know that you really lied to me about who you are. Not really. I might not've known you were CIA, but I feel like...I kinda know you. A little. As much as you let me." She shrugged. "And I'm trying to understand why you're leaving…"

The way she trailed off was a pretty clear hint. She was trying to understand but Sarah really hadn't finished explaining, had she? She sent Ellie a side-eye and smirked a bit, shrugging. "I don't really know that Chuck would've made this choice if it weren't for me. I mean, if they'd sent someone else, some other agent. But it was me, and things happened, lines were blurred, he was...well, him. He wants to be a part of my world, Ellie. That's what this boils down to."

"Ah." Ellie nodded. "He wants to be a part of your world...because it's _your world_. If it wasn't, he wouldn't have chosen to be a spy. Did I get it?"

"That's the gist. And I can't be here, watching him take this destructive path for me… I didn't know what I was doing all this time, the things he was getting into his head. I didn't know what he was thinking. Now that I do know that… It's best that I go." She huffed. "Honestly, I'm just done with him."

"Are you really?" Ellie asked after a long pause.

"No, of course not," the blonde breathed, just barely managing to keep the bubble in her chest from bursting. "But I need to be. This has been the hardest six months of my life…" And she'd really seen and experienced some shit, hadn't she? "And you probably think I'm a coward and weak for running away from it. But I can't face what's gonna happen to him because...I'm the reason why…"

"This is going to sound strange, Sarah, but...can I just ask…?" Sarah sent a questioning look in her direction and Ellie crossed her arms this time. "In the last six months, have you gotten any kind of breather? Chuck's...a lot," she explained as Sarah's brow furrowed in confusion. "He's the best person I know, that idiot, but God, he is constantly putting other people ahead of himself. To a fault. I can't imagine he takes orders well, even from the government."

"HA!" Sarah burst out, blushing a little at how loud it was.

Ellie giggled good-naturedly. "Yeah, I thought not. I know firsthand that he's a handful, not that he means to be. But he's just always taking care of everyone else and...not himself. He used to do that stuff back when we were teenagers and I had to get him out of so much trouble. There was the time he made himself almost have a mental breakdown in high school because he was helping too many people and couldn't figure out how to say no." She sighed and shook her head wistfully. "And with...this Intersect in his head now, you've had to be around him practically twenty-four seven, I imagine. Making sure nobody gets to him. Making sure he's safe. Have you done anything outside of watching over him and...maybe sleeping?"

Sarah shrugged. "It hasn't been so bad. It isn't exactly a hardship being around him. Which, I guess, has been the trouble this whole time. If he wasn't...him...I could just do the bare minimum of the job and get on with my life."

"Sarah, I can't begrudge you wanting to leave. I...care about you. A lot. You're really one of my only friends outside of the insulated world at the hospital, my coworkers and such. I feel like...we've connected."

"As much as I'm capable of," Sarah muttered, rolling her eyes at herself.

"What I mean is we're friends."

The CIA agent looked at the neurosurgeon and smiled genuinely. "We're friends."

"I don't want to lose a friend. Almost as much as I don't want to lose my brother." She took a deep, calming breath and shook her head. "Will you consider maybe...thinking about staying? Please?"

Sarah looked away and slumped a little again. She couldn't stay. But before she could verbalize that, Ellie continued.

"I know. I know it's so much to ask of you. If you leave, you could be done with all of this. You could go back to whatever your life was before you were sent here. I don't presume to know. Maybe it's a lot simpler out there, even if it's dangerous." Ellie shrugged. "I don't watch nearly as many spy movies as Chuck does, and I've definitely never picked up one of those...le Carré books he left lying around his room when he was a teenager. I don't know what your life is like out there."

Not great, Sarah wanted to say. But she wasn't fishing for any sympathy from Ellie Bartowski. Nor did she think she wanted either of the Bartowskis to really know the truth of what it was like out there in the spy world. It was altogether too bleak.

With Chuck… Well, none of them really had a choice at this point, did they? He was going to find out sooner or later, and everything they all loved so much about him would break. She bit back tears of guilt and anger.

"He...hurt me, Ellie. And I know this will hurt him, but…" She let out a rough breath. "This all happened because…" She tried a different tack, having a hard time getting control of what she wanted to say. She really couldn't seem to find her footing. "Maybe none of it should've ever happened. Maybe he'd be a lot safer with some other partner."

"A partner who doesn't give a rat's ass about him? I'm not sure that's the best alternative."

"A partner who he isn't going to dive in front of a bullet for."

"He's a total jackass. A thoughtless, naive, rash jackass. And I hate that he's doing this. But he's doing it, Sarah, and… Well, I'd really prefer he has a partner who'd do the same for him. The bullet thing I mean. I think it's what both of you deserve."

 _I think it's what both of you deserve._

Sarah felt numb and like she would cry all at once. But she just shook her head. She didn't believe it. Chuck, yes. But not her.

"Look, I…" Ellie's phone buzzed and she went into her purse and pulled it out. "It's Devon. He just wants to make sure I'm alive." She tapped a few buttons and slipped her phone back in her bag. "I should probably go. But I just want you to know that I am still...weirded out by all this. Unsettled by the fact that you're a spy. That's...crazy. But I also get it. I get that this has all been a lot for you. And my brother pulling this shit with the NSA? It's unfair and it's naive and I still can't believe he's this...stupid. I get that you're internalizing it. I get why. And I get you wanting to get outta Dodge and not have to deal with him, or the rest of us, ever again. But I guess what I'm trying to say is...please don't."

She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and Sarah felt tears start in her own eyes. "I know how desperate I sound, begging you to stay and protect Chuck when you so clearly want to get outta here. But please, please…" She grabbed Sarah's hands in both of hers. "Please don't let him do this without you there. He trusts you more than he trusts anybody. He cares...probably more than you know. More than I'm comfortable saying, even if I just very blatantly alluded to it." Sarah blushed and ducked her head. "He told me that you've been his lifeline through all of this. Those were his words. I don't know that he can survive without your help. I can't lose him. I don't—I don't trust anyone else in this. That general lady, John… Please just...try. However you need to rationalize it to yourself. I understand if you don't want to be with him. Really be with him, I mean. Especially not after he lied to you. But I just don't know that he can get through this without his lifeline, Sarah. It isn't fair of me to ask, but please stay to help guide him through it all. I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I shouldn't have even said any of this—"

"No, it-it's okay, Ellie. I…" She what? She didn't know, so she just shook her head. "I can't...promise. I just can't."

"I get it," Ellie said with a nod. And then she squeezed Sarah's shoulder and stood up, wiping under her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater and sniffling. "And I guess I should thank you, huh?" Sarah stood up as well, furrowing her brow. "You've kept my brother alive these last six months. And you've been a good friend to me. So thank you."

And just like that, Ellie was hugging her tight. Sarah hugged her back just as tightly. She wasn't sure if Ellie meant it to be a maybe-goodbye hug, but Sarah meant it that way, and she squeezed even harder, shutting her eyes.

"Do you think Chuck'll be a good spy?" Ellie asked, still hugging her, her voice quiet.

"Yes," Sarah said. "He'll be incredible."

"That's what you're afraid of. Isn't it?"

"Yes," Sarah answered honestly.

Ellie pulled back from the hug. "No matter what you decide, Sarah, take some time. Let yourself rest. You don't owe him more than you've already given him. You don't owe any of us. But you owe yourself some time to just...get away. From him, us, the spying stuff. All of it. Turn off your phone and just...let yourself be apart from it all. We all need that. You're human. Just like the rest of us."

She rubbed Sarah's arm and left, just like that, the door clicking shut behind her. And Sarah was left standing by the bed, her knees weak, her head unsure, her heart even more unsure, not sure if there was ever a time when she'd felt more...human.

}o{

The next morning Sarah found herself sitting by the pool.

She hadn't left.

She was still in Los Angeles.

She hadn't left last night and, to be honest, she was beginning to wonder if she ever would. Ellie had pushed her over the edge. Or maybe it was more like she'd grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and yanked her back from where she'd be teetering over the edge.

Because amidst everything else Ellie had said to Sarah the night before, the thing that had stuck the hardest, the thing that dug inside of her the deepest, was that if _she_ wasn't here, no one would protect him the way she would.

She was considering coming back with parameters. _Like the same ones you took this assignment with originally?_ Sarah snorted. She looked around the pool and sighed. She thought she'd take a few days. Sit by the pool, read, recharge. As she was considering all of this, she was shocked to find her phone in her hand.

 _"How is he?_ " she texted, against her better judgment. But if she didn't, she'd continue to dwell on it. She waited a few minutes and wondered if she'd even get an answer. She figured that she probably wouldn't, when her phone beeped. She turned it over and looked at Ellie's reply.

 _"Surly. I threw away all of his cereal."_ Sarah giggled. He was an overgrown child. _"Can I ask where you are?"_

All Ellie got in reply was, _"Yes."_ She grinned. God, the Bartowskis had so rubbed off on her.

 _"You've spent too much time around my brother."_ She wasn't wrong.

Sarah stared at Ellie's original question and bit her lip. She knew exactly what Ellie wanted to know. Whether she was gone, or whether she'd stayed. If she'd gone, she would've already ditched this phone by now. Ellie wouldn't know that, though. Of course.

 _"Same place I was yesterday."_ Sarah stuffed her phone deep inside of the bag she'd brought out to the pool and pulled a book out. She would read until her eyes fell out of her head, anything to keep herself from coming to terms with why she was still in Los Angeles.

}o{

Three days later she found herself in the same chair she had been in everyday since Ellie showed up unexpectedly at her door. She had decided, as much as she hated staying, she hated leaving even more. She wasn't surprised to see her phone in her hand again.

 _"I'm coming back,"_ she typed. She waited with her thumb hovering over send. She was here. They were going to know about her decision eventually. And she decided after their talk the other night, Ellie was probably the first one she wanted to know. So she hit send.

She sat up and waited, turning the phone in her hands, over and over. Her phone beeped and she looked.

" _Thank you._ " There was nothing for a few moments and then Ellie continued. " _I won't be the one to tell him. He thinks I'm pissed at him….spoiler alert: I am._ " Sarah snorted.

 _"I'll tell him myself in the morning."_ She put her phone down when it went off again. She picked up the phone and her mouth dropped with shock.

 _"Hell no you won't. You take as many days as you need to take. Don't rush yourself if you need a longer break from this to figure things out. As long as you're coming back. As long as you promise to protect him."_

 _"I will. And I'll take the time I need."_ She put her phone down and pulled her book back up again. Maybe next week would be better. Maybe that would give her the time to come to terms with everything, build up a plan of action. Next week she'd train Chuck Bartowski to be a spy. After she had the time she needed to settle everything in her mind. But she shook herself, willing all of that out of her head for now.

}o{

Chuck wiped his hands on his pants. If he had a time machine, he'd go back and kick his own ass. Ellie was furious with him and she had gotten rid of all the cereal he liked as well as all of the junk food in the apartment. She'd said something along the lines of, "if you want to be a God damn spy then you need to put better food in your body".

She asked a lot of questions about what he did, how his head felt, and how his training was going, but every time Sarah's name came up, the temperature of the room dropped a few degrees.

This morning Beckman had announced she was leaving Los Angeles to go back to Langley, and that the third member of the team would be joining them soon. Chuck had a million questions but the glare he received from both Beckman and Casey made him shut his mouth.

Now he was dressed for his shift at the Buy More, sitting at the table in Castle, dwelling over knowing he'd made the right decision but also knowing he should've been honest from the get-go...at the very least, he should've been honest about why he hadn't been honest… His brain was all mixed up, a mess...when he heard the door at the top of the stairs open.

He looked up distractedly and saw the orange Converse sneakers with the blue laces, the white capris… He looked down again, froze, and shot to his feet, gaping at her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder shove him back into his seat before he could straighten up, slamming hard into his chair, still staring.

"Sit down, numb nuts," Casey growled under his breath.

"Sarah," he whispered breathlessly. Casey grabbed a file and stuck it in his face, blocking his view of the woman walking down the stairs. Chuck flashed on the contents immediately.

"Christ," Casey muttered. "That was quick. But we kinda knew that would fix the problem, didn't we?" Casey did not say that last part quietly. "Agent Bartowski, meet your CIA partner, Agent Sarah Walker." Sarah stopped at the front of the table, looking at Casey and Chuck. The air was frozen between them. Chuck felt it. And apparently Casey did, too, because he asked awkwardly, "Do you two need to talk?"

Sarah nodded and Casey fled.

He didn't know what to do with the fact that she was standing in front of him again. He couldn't move. He didn't know what to say. But because he couldn't help it, he spoke anyway.

"Sarah—" Chuck began.

"No, you need to listen," Sarah said, the spy mask in place. Chuck's heart sank at seeing it there. "You made a decision and I am here to help you make that decision a reality. You don't know yet what that means, what it really means, so from here on out, you need to listen to someone who does. You do as _I_ say. Do you understand?" Chuck nodded. Sarah shook her head and sighed. "You really don't, and that's my fault, but I can't fix that at the moment. You've made it clear what you want."

"Sarah, I'm sorry—" Chuck began again.

"Chuck, we are spies. That's it. We aren't friends, we're spies. We're a team."

"Sarah, I—" Chuck began a third time, feeling his heart in his throat.

"You wanted to be a spy, so that's what you're gonna be. I've agreed to help train you to be a spy. You need to understand that there's no room for anything else. Because if we fuck this up, you could slip, and if you slip, you might die." She stared at him for a second, the mask still there. "Casey!" she yelled, never taking her eyes off of him. "You can come back now!"

Chuck glanced at the doorway Casey had escaped through, then looked back at her, feeling completely bereft and overwhelmed all at once. She was determined to make this all business, he could see, so he decided to play it her way, swallowing excuses and explanations, trying to get a hold of himself, and nodding.

"So what do we do?" he asked quietly.

"We do our jobs," Sarah replied. He watched as she flicked her gaze to the side, shifting her weight. "The best way to handle this is to see where you are. You're running point on this mission."

"The hell?" Casey muttered coming back into the room and walking right to the table.

"Wha?" Chuck said at the same time.

Sarah gave Casey a shut up look and turned to Chuck. "Neither Casey or I have any real advantage running point here, so this is the perfect opportunity for us to see what you can do before the training. So we know where to start."

Casey looked like he thought this was the worst idea, but if Sarah wanted it this way, he'd agree. Anyway, it gave him a chance to prove himself, to prove to her that he was cut out for this. He felt a chill go through him in spite of that thought.

"Okay," Chuck replied, nodding with determination. "Who's our target?"

"Gun runner by the name of Giles," Casey said, still giving Sarah a look as he tossed Chuck a folder. He opened it and scanned through it. Then he looked up at Casey, shook his head, and went back to the folder. "What?"

"I mean, you'd think they'd use their whole name their parents gave them," Chuck mumbled, still digging through the folder.

"Chuck," Sarah said gently, making him raise his head. "The less info someone has on you, the less likely they are to figure out who you are."

"Oh," Chuck said softly. "Makes sense." He lowered his head and then stopped. He looked back at Sarah. "Why not just use an alias?"

Sarah turned to Casey, who had an amused look on his face. "You wanna take that one?"

"Hell no, this has been all me the last two weeks. You're his handler, you handle him."

"Excuse me," Chuck cut in, making both of them look at him. "I am not for anyone to handle. I am an agent. Now, I get it, I know next to nothing, but I'm not worried, you know why? I have two of the best spies ever training me." He gave them each meaningful looks, then hardened his jaw. "I can do this."

He shut the folder and tucked it under his arm, leaving them both behind as he left the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please leave us reviews. We appreciate them a lot.

-SC and DC


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N:** This is the story of two very imperfect people. Sometimes imperfect people do very stupid things. Sometimes they work through it and it takes a bit. Also, it's not so much Chuck's decision that has her upset as it is HIM NOT TALKING TO HER ABOUT IT, HIS BEST FRIEND. This is written by two very imperfect people (although I say I'm more imperfect than SC) *dodges monocle she threw at me* I understand the trepidation (used my word of the day calendar there) but I pinky swear this is gonna pay off. I would also like you to remember one of the things we both wanted to do was take some of the cringe worthy moments out of this series. Deep breath, yes some of you have guessed right about where we are, but it's us, it's ish, and this is a journey we have plotted and painstakingly detailed for a year. We are SO excited to be here. I promise, it's not as bad as you think. There is growth coming, from two very imperfect people and there will be missteps. It's a journey but that light you're looking for, it's still there, and it is getting brighter. Funny thing about the light, it always seems darkest right before the dawn. Dawn's coming, and it's going to be bright, and there's no ish to that. There is a VERY original episode coming. Did I mention HOW EXCITED we are? Cause we are! Thank you for joining us, and I promise we will make it worth your while.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and aren't making money.

* * *

"He didn't flash on the second file," Sarah said softly. Casey didn't respond. She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated. "What do I do?" Casey just looked at her, still silent, and she looked right back, thrusting her hand out helplessly. "I'm asking you, what do I do?"

"You're the only one who can answer that. I'm not the one who was going off on real dates with him," Casey finally said. Part of her wanted to hit Casey for that crack, because she was confused, angry at seeing Chuck again in person, and relieved at seeing him again and maybe that was why she was angry...But then she realized it wasn't a crack. He was being serious. And she supposed he was right. He couldn't answer that question. Only she could.

He seemed to take pity on her and he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Listen, he fucked up not telling you. We can all agree on that, even the moron himself. But you've got to quit fixating on the one thing you keep fixating on."

"What are you talking about?"

"You think he's going to ruin his life. That being in the NSA is gonna fuck up who he is." Sarah frowned, casting her gaze to the side. "Ain't gonna happen, though. Know why?" She looked back at him and shook her head. "Because that kid has us to make sure it doesn't happen. That ain't somethin' you _or_ me had."

"What do you mean, it isn't going to happen? It already is happening! He purposely kept me in the dark! Me!" she emphasized, thumping herself on the chest with her palm.

Casey chuckled. "Christ, if you think that means he's not the same guy he was at the start of all this, you might not know 'im as well as you think you do. The guy's human. He's always been. You think every decision he makes is gonna be perfect?" He snorted. "Have we been dealing with the same idiot?" Sarah just stared at Casey, stunned. "Come on, I'll show you something else that will make you even more pissed at him. He's Piranha."

Sarah furrowed her brow. What in the hell was he talking about, calling Chuck a fish. "Piranha? Like...the fish?"

Casey rolled his eyes. "Pfft. Typical CIA. So fixated on foreign shit and you have no clue about what happens in your own damn country." She rolled her eyes. That was the whole point of the CIA, wasn't it? Foreign intelligence? Idiot. "Piranha, Walker. They were a big deal, came onto the scene about thirteen years ago and stayed around 'til four or five years ago before they disappeared completely off the radar. Not even a trace. Piranha."

Alarms went off in her head as she spun to face him fully. "Wait! The hacker?! _That_ Piranha?" She couldn't wrap her head around this. "Chuck?!" Casey shrugged. "What else don't I know about him?"

"Seems the guy you thought was so morally pristine and the best decision-maker on the planet before we swept in to corrupt him isn't who you've dreamed up, huh?" Casey left the room in the same direction Chuck went minutes earlier.

Sarah shook her head, still gaping, numb even. What in the hell was her life?

}o{

Chuck's hands were flying across the keyboard finding whatever he could on Giles based off of what little they had on the guy in the file Casey gave him. Giles was apparently a gun runner that was supposed to meet a Ring courier at Frank's. Frank's was a little Italian place with good food and great music according to their website.

Chuck scouted over the floor plan in an attempt to come up with some sort of a game plan.

He looked at the photos of where Giles liked to sit and got an idea, a particular idea that he definitely did not like.

He pulled up a map, found road plans, building plans, and they all pointed to an easy way to take Giles out, but he knew what Sarah would say. He supported her in what she would say because if she didn't say, he'd say it.

"Find anything, Bartowski?" he heard Casey call out behind him.

"Yeah, but I don't like it," Chuck muttered.

"Well, since we're supposed to help you, let's hear what you have," Sarah said, following Casey in. Chuck gave her a look. She paused, a dubious look on her face. "What is it?"

"The, um, the idea I came up with sort of asks for you specifically to do a thing I'm pretty sure you are not going to want to do," Chuck began.

"She gotta pretend she actually likes you right now?" Casey asked. Chuck glared, and Casey seemed like he realized maybe now wasn't the best time for his usual shtick.

"Nope, he's in the van quarterbacking," Sarah said before he could respond. She gave Chuck that certain look of hers that told him to shut up. "If it's your plan, you have to be the eyes and ears."

She told him that he needed to listen to her, to do what she said, and he knew she was speaking from a place of experience and seniority, so he nodded in agreement instead of arguing.

"Okay," Chuck replied and turned back to the screen. He started to speak and then turned back. "I hate this, though, for the record."

"Well, this is what most of the whole spy thing is, Chuck, so if you're already having trouble, this isn't the greatest start," Sarah said without blinking an eye. "Sometimes you gotta burn an asset, or seduce a mark…" She paused, then glanced at the screen, her eyes darting over the work he'd done so far. "Is that what this is? The thing I'm not going to want to do?"

Chuck winced. "Trust me, I twisted my brain into knots trying to come up with some other way, _any_ other way…" She raised her eyebrows and he understood it immediately. "Not because—I mean, it wasn't because I'm—It hasn't nothing to do with—" He gestured between them and cleared his throat.

"The hell are you saying? Finish your sentence," Casey groused.

"I know I'm training to be a spy, and I know spies have to burn assets and seduce marks but why force a spy to do that crap if there's even the slightest chance of there being a better way. It's not just you, Sarah, it's...the spy world in general. You shouldn't have to, but-but nobody should have to. I don't care if it's 'part of the job', it's still bad to make your people do it," Chuck said, shoulders slumping.

"Well, I don't want to do it, either," Sarah said, crossing her arms, nibbling on her lip. "But I can handle it if I'm holding the reins. Give me the reins and you don't have to worry about it."

Chuck looked at her for a long time, then nodded once. "Okay. The reins are yours."

She met his gaze for a long moment, then nodded, looking to the screen again and gesturing with a nod of her chin. "So tell us the plan."

He nodded and pulled up the specs of the building. "Van is here, where I'll be."

"Out of sight, good vantage point, not easily seen...I like it," Casey said, nodding approvingly.

Chuck pushed down the pride he felt at that and quickly pulled up the floor plans to Frank's. "Giles meets his contact at Frank's, once a week, like clockwork." He pointed to a seat at the bar. "This is where he normally sits and meets his courier. Now if Sarah sits here," he said pointing to a seat at the bar, right beside where Giles normally sat. "That's the shortest distance to the exit. The key is to get Giles into that alley off to the side of the building, through said exit. If Sarah can persuade him through that door..."

"If," she said, snorting.

"Well," he said, turning in his chair slowly, an amused grin on his face. "Casey taught me to have multiple plans for every circumstance, even if the chances of it happening aren't high." Chuck missed the significant look on her face. "I figure our other option is for you two to tranq him without anyone seeing and Weekend at Bernie's him to the van."

"Do what?" he heard Sarah mutter.

"Good job, Bartowski," Casey said, ignoring her. "Forward that to the General, and then meet us in the dojo." Chuck turned back to the computer as the other two walked off. When he couldn't hear their footsteps, he said a little prayer, picked up the file on Giles, and flashed. He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't a complete bust _just_ yet.

}o{

"Okay, I'm going to run through this one time…" Chuck began, but then he froze as something occurred to him. "Do we need code names?" Casey groaned. "No, I'm serious, like, shouldn't I protect your aliases?"

"The only way they'd know our names is if they hack our signal, numb nuts," Casey groused.

"I know that," Chuck replied. "...You do know this is hackable, right?" There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then he heard a soft giggle poorly covered with a dainty clearing of a throat.

Fine, she wanted to be professional, then he would be professional. He had messed up enough, so it was time to do this right. He went into full focus mode. "Sarah, by your reaction I assume your audio is good. Trace your finger on your glass if you're hearing this." He saw her tracing her finger on the glass. He was learning on the job so when a thought occurred to him, he voiced it. "Hey, should I record this to study later? You know, like spy homework?"

"If you want him, all you have to do is ask Grimes, you don't have to seduce him," Casey muttered.

"Sorry, Casey, I was just trying to learn," he sneered, making a face even though nobody could see him. He heard a soft grunt and watched as Sarah took another drink. "I don't get how you do it." He saw Sarah's eyes flicker to the camera. "How you drink the way you do on missions?"

Sarah had her head turned away from everyone and ducked it a little as she scratched her head. "You don't actually take any liquid in your mouth, and then you pretend to swallow."

"See, I never would have known that." He swore he saw a small smile on her face. He would have said more but the target walked into the room. "I have eyes on Giles," Chuck said, going completely professional. He saw Sarah sit up a little straighter, almost like his words had pulled her out of something, what he didn't know. "Good luck, Agent Walker," he said softly. He saw her glance in the direction of the camera. He watched the target sit down and watched, determined to learn something.

She was sitting there, never looking at him when Chuck heard her speak. "Can I ask you something?"

Giles glanced over at her. "Sure," he replied.

She turned toward him. "Do you ever get tired of it all?" He gave her a look. "The games, the chase, the...dance?" She arched an eyebrow at him and a smirk covered his face. "Rita," she said, offering him her hand.

"Giles," he replied, taking her hand. "Do you hit on men often?"

"Only after my ex decides he can't trust me," she replied. "He was always so jealous and always thought I was out doing things with complete strangers."

"Oh?" Giles asked, and Chuck was instantly worried. He didn't sound intrigued, he sounded...cautious.

"So, I figured I'd find out what he was worried about." Chuck watched Giles stop his jaw from falling to the floor, but just. "Care to help me find out?"

"Sorry, not interested in drama," Giles replied, nodding to her and turning back to his drink. Chuck heard Casey laugh.

"Welp, Bartowski, I hope you have another plan B besides Weekend at Bernie's," Casey quipped.

"He's lying," Chuck replied, grinning. "He's very interested in you, Sarah. There's absolutely no way he isn't interested in you. He's a red-blooded straight male with eyes and ears that work." He saw something on her face. "But, he needs a little something to push it over the top. Uh...um, I'm not sure how to do this."

"What's the plan?" he heard Casey ask.

"Maybe he needs to see the actual guy in question, and then he'll realize you're not lying, Rita," Chuck replied. He saw a smile ghost her lips. "Scratch your nose if you're okay with me coming in. I'll follow your lead once I'm in." She deftly scratched her nose. "Here goes nothing…" He was already out of the van and making his way to her side. "Coming in the front door now, Casey. Can you arrange having me thrown out after this is over?"

"It will be my pleasure," Casey replied.

Chuck rolled his eyes, straightened his clothes a bit, and headed for the door. He took a deep breath and went inside. He went straight for the bar, saw Sarah go rigid, and she leaned in to say something to Giles. She slid out of her seat and marched towards him, Giles eyes on her.

Chuck was pretty sure by the look on her face that she was using some of her actual anger she was harboring towards him to sell the cover.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Chuck asked, making sure he was positioned where Giles could see what he was saying while making sure Sarah was in a position where their mark couldn't see what _she_ was saying.

"We're gonna have to make this look good..." she warned. He saw a struggle in her eyes. "I need you to kiss me, not-bomb style." Chuck reached for her and pulled her in quickly, but gently, and when his lips hit hers, he hated himself more than he had ever hated himself in his life. He hated himself more than he had ever hated anyone. He could have had this. He could have been with her, if only he had told her everything right from the beginning. About the bunker, about the NSA offer, about his fear of her reaction to all of it...

His stomach was in knots, and yet he was in heaven. He was putting the feeling of kissing Sarah Walker in a vault, locking it up safe, and never forgetting it for as long as he lived because this was probably going to be the last time he would ever feel this again. When they finally pulled back, her spy mask was gone. He was drowning, but he could see she was too, and he had to cover for her. Then again, fuck it.

"We can still have this," he said softly. "We can be together, please don't do this to me...to us. Give us a chance." The smack of her hand hit him in the face so hard he was shocked all of his teeth didn't fall out. He stumbled backwards, shaking his head, trying to gain his footing, when he felt two strong, familiar hands grab him.

"Okay, Loverboy, show's over. Get out." Casey began to drag him to the door, and as he did he saw Sarah had returned to her seat, and Giles leaned over with a look on his face. It had worked. The mission was going to be successful...at least the mission to take out Giles.

Chuck stumbled back to the van, pressing his cool hand to his face and hissing at the stinging sensation. He pulled his headset back on. "I'm back, guys, are we a go?" At that time Giles looked away and he saw Sarah mouth the word "sorry." Chuck started to speak when a small squeal came over his head phone.

He heard Sarah clear her throat pointedly to try to get his attention when he didn't respond.

"Getting some feedback, trying to find it," he said, hurrying. "Pull your ear piece, use hand signals with Casey, and I'll let him know when to signal you to put it back in." He saw Sarah remove the earpiece deftly.

"Nice improvising, Kid, all around." Casey replied. "We're a go. Plus, just got a message: the Ring courier is some guy named Javier." The flash began as the squeal got louder. "Taking my earwig out too, Kid. Text me when it's fixed."

The flash ended, and Chuck knew who Javier was: a hit man. There was no picture in the photo, but the list of kills made his eyes widen and his stomach lurch just a bit. Chuck started to tell Casey but he didn't have his ear piece in. He grabbed his phone and saw it was dead. "SHIT!" He swore. Morgan must have borrowed it to play a game earlier. He was running point, his team was in trouble and he had already screwed up. He had no idea what to do.

Chuck hopped out of the van, trying to figure out the best way to let Sarah know what was going on when he saw a van pull up with the band's equipment. He saw guys unloading equipment and decided, what the hell. He walked over, took the speaker he was given and started toward the door, when he tripped, crashing into the guy in front of him and causing him to hit his head on the steel door, knocking the roadie out.

"Oh, shit!" Chuck muttered. "Hey, hey, buddy," he said, patting the side of the roadie's face. He pulled his hand away, seeing blood. "Ouch. That's gonna leave a mark." Chuck looked around, leaned the roadie against the wall gently, grabbed the speaker and headed inside. "Now, how do I get to Sarah?"

"Hey, what are you doing back here?" A large man asked Chuck. His eyes went wide, and he remembered Sarah's words from a few weeks back about how he wanted to be a spy he had to do what was necessary. He looked around and saw the set list and his eyes lit up. "Well?"

"I need a huge favor," Chuck tried, knowing he was really taking a huge chance with this tack. "You ever been in love?"

}o{

Sarah glanced at Casey, who gave her a head shake. The comms had been dead for a little bit now and she was getting worried. She wanted to go check on him, but she couldn't. She was the lynch pin in this. She was the only way they'd get Giles out of here. And she had to stick to the job because Chuck wasn't just her asset now. He was on his way to becoming a spy. This was the job he'd signed up for.

Chuck was taking forever to fix the feedback and apparently he was even more of a tech genius than she'd known, so there was a good chance someone had caught him in the van. And here she was, stuck at this bar having to make this asshole Giles think she was interested.

She was stuck on what Chuck had said to her before she hit him. Why'd he chosen _that_ to say of all things, if it was for the cover? It was good, but she couldn't help wondering how he'd come up with it… And maybe coming back wasn't the best idea.

A knot had formed in her stomach, but she had a job. She saw Casey watching her and he gave her the slightest of head nods. She nodded back. It was time to wrap this up.

And if Casey thought someone needed to go out and make sure Chuck was okay, he'd do it. She knew. So she decided to end this quick.

"Guess you were right about the drama," Sarah said, moving her hair away from her neck and feeling Giles' eyes fasten there. "Now I'm gonna have to leave here and go somewhere else."

"Maybe I was hasty," Giles said, his voice rushed, a sense of urgency and desire in him. Sarah smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I, uh, have a very important meeting here, that I have to stay for," he began.

"So, stay for your meeting," she replied with a shrug. "But afterwards…." she trailed off, her voice was dripping honey, and it was working.

She watched him gulp. "Yeah, I can do that."

"I hope so, Giles, because…" she trailed off as she spotted a tall curly-haired man leap up onto the stage over Giles's shoulder. Chuck. He was back. What in the hell was he doing?

"Something wrong, Rita?" Giles asked. He followed her gaze. "He doesn't give up, does he?"

"Some guys don't get the hint." Her brain went a mile a minute. Something had to be wrong. "Dance with me," Sarah said, grinning at him. She got up, led Giles to the dance floor, and he pulled her in as the slow jazz standard began. She saw Casey's eyes go wide as Chuck took the stage. She wasn't sure how much of a train wreck this was gonna be.

She recognized this song. My Funny Valentine by Chet Baker. When she and Chuck had first listened to it, months ago on a stakeout. Chuck's voice filled the room then as he leaned into the microphone and began to sing. She knew he was watching her as he sang and she didn't miss the significance of it, but she couldn't deal with this right now. In the middle of a mission, of all times, _this_ was when he decided to croon at her? Giles pulled her in closer, but her eyes were locked with Chuck's.

 _My funny Valentine, sweet comic Valentine  
_ _You make me smile with my heart_

This was a bad idea. She'd let Ellie get the better of her, she'd let her plead enough that it got under her skin and now she had made this choice and she was stuck. She wasn't the right person to be a part of this. She couldn't do it. She wasn't strong enough for it.

She shook herself a little, trying to block his voice, eyeing the stage and the musicians behind him. How had he managed to get up on that stage? What had he said? Nobody was pulling him off. They let him climb up on stage and start singing. He was pointedly singing to her now and she wondered if he'd given the stage manager some sort of sappy story…But would he do that in the middle of a mission? Was he _that_ unfocused? That destructive? And she thought, in spite of everything, he wasn't. So she focused on him again, and that was when she saw him mouth the word "killer" during the short instrumental break. She pointed at Giles's back and he gave the simplest head shake. Then their eyes locked.

 _But don't change a hair for me  
_ _Not if you care for me  
_ _Stay little Valentine, stay_

How wasn't he understanding where she was coming from? She could have found a way to keep him safe and he could still be himself. He wouldn't have to change. He wouldn't have to become a carbon copy of Casey, or of her. He was singing this stupid song and he wasn't even listening to the stupid words. And now here she was, having to deal with him singing this freaking song the way he was singing it, trying not to let it get to her, and… That was when she felt Giles's hand start to creep.

She wasn't comfortable with where it was creeping, and she glanced up to look at Chuck… She didn't know why. His eyes went wide and she knew why. He'd given her the reins here and he was still doing this, like she didn't know what she was doing…

But then he yelled her name into the microphone. Surprised, she stepped back from Giles completely and spun to see Chuck take a running leap off of the stage. His body hit hers hard and she hit the ground even harder, but he'd managed to slip a hand around the back of her head to keep her from cracking her skull.

She heard guns clicking all around her as she tried to get her breath back. "The—the hell, Chu..." God, he'd really knocked the wind out of her.

He rolled off of her, a panicked look on his face. "The red laser sight was on his head and then it moved to your head!" he gasped out. "I had a fl—you know. Javier is an assassin."

"Where is he?" Sarah asked, her gun out immediately as she sat up. Casey pulled Giles to his feet. "Take him in," she said, climbing to her feet.

"He fuck up?" Casey asked quietly.

"Don't know," Sarah replied.

Chuck popped up to his feet, anger on his face. "Listen, you two, I didn't fuck up!" he snapped. "I get it, you're the spies, I'm the junior agent, but I did things exactly by the book. I don't know _what_ book, but...a book. So..." Obviously fed up with them both, he stormed off, leaving them gaping after him.

}o{

He walked outside, kicking the door open. What was it going to take for those two to trust him?

He walked over to the van, got inside, and drove it back to the Orange Orange. He parked it in their underground parking lot, went inside and changed, then went through the secret passage that led into the Buy More. He needed to just get away from all of this, go home, and let his frustrations out, killing some Halo drones or something. Maybe he'd just go to sleep. Give them some time to think about how unfair they were being.

He walked out of the Buy More, heading towards the Herder when he saw her, waiting for him.

"Hey. Chuck..." she said softly.

He stopped, swallowing hard. Nobody else was here. It was just them. He had a lot to get off of his chest and maybe this time she'd let him talk. She'd hear him out. "Sarah. Listen, if I could go back in time and kick my own ass for not talking to you about all of this, I would…"

"Uh, Chuck..." Sarah said, but he wasn't paying attention, lost in his own thoughts, trying to piece together something that would make her see why he'd done what he had done. "Chuck!"

"No, I need to get this off of my chest. I made a huge mistake not telling you, and I don't know why it felt so important that I didn't except—" He felt pain explode in the back of his head and everything went black.

}o{

Chuck woke up on a bed, his head pounding. He tried to shake his head to clear the cobwebs, wincing at the pain that caused, when the door opened and in walked the roadie he'd knocked out at Frank's. "Oh. Woops. Uh...Hi there, Javier," Chuck said, putting two and two together. "Uh, you know, I think we actually got off on the wrong foot. My knocking you into that door was completely unintentional. See, I-I tripped. The speaker was real heavy..."

"I want to know who you are," Javier said in a gravelly voice.

"Nobody, nope, I'ma nobody," Chuck sputtered out quickly. "In fact, I think that I have documentation somewhere that... that proves that I'm an official nobody." Javier slowly took off his shirt the way a killer might to keep it from getting their victim's blood on it. "Wow. You are extremely ripped, sir."

"You cost me a job. And now you're going to make it up to me." He cracked his knuckles, a maniacal look in his eyes.

Chuck stood, trying to get control of the situation. "If you could just give me one second, I could explain everything. 'Cause, see, I'm—"

Javier punched him in the face, and then hit him with a flying roundhouse kick. Chuck hit the wall and slid down it, dazed.

"You're going to tell me everything, Mr. Bartowski. Who you are, who you work for. And then, you're going to tell me about the girl." Javier left, and Chuck slowly tipped over to lie against the wall in pain.

"What was I thinking?" he breathed. "Casey and Sarah are badasses...And-And me?... I'm nothing." He got up off the floor and began to examine the cell, talking himself through this. In exactly the way Casey had told him not to. But he was different from Casey and he'd always be different from Casey. He talked himself through problems, and he always had. "Okay… Why the hell do they have us in these primitive cells?"

"Probably because they are hundreds of years old," he heard Sarah say. God, was he even hearing her voice in his head now? How hard had Javier kicked him? Whatever, he'd answer the voice anyway. Maybe it'd help.

"Yeah, but they couldn't have updated anything, these guys are supposed to be part of the Ring the new big and bad spies..." That voice hadn't been in his head. The fog cleared and he realized it wasn't in his head; it was right outside of his cell. He pressed his hands against the wall desperately. "SARAH!"

"I can't pick this stupid lock," she groused. "I need _you_ to get us out of here. He's coming back to your cell."

"There's no way we could reverse those roles, is there?"

"Chuck..." she tried.

"I mean, it's obviously no problem." He was in full on spiral. "He's built like a tank, and we know how well that worked out for me last time. Casey isn't here to catch me."

"Chuck, you can do this. You've been trained to do this."

"Sarah, you don't get it. You and Casey were right, okay. I'm... I'm not a spy. I don't work. My emotions just mess everything up. I'm great with computers, but this...no." Chuck laid his head against the wall.

"No. Chuck, listen, I was mad... and wrong. I have worked with the best spies in the world. And you know what?"

"They're on their way here to save us?" Chuck asked, hopeful for a second.

"None of them can do what you can do. You're a spy."

Chuck looked at the wall she was behind. Did she really believe that, though? He wasn't so sure she wasn't just trying to bolster his confidence so that he'd meet this moment. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't a spy. Not yet. But what if she really did believe it and some dark force was turning his head against him…? That seemed much more plausible. Yes.

"Sarah...I need you to tell me what to do." God, this was the worst ideas of all his ideas, but if Sarah Walker could maybe believe in him...

"Okay, Casey said you had been training in Aikido," Sarah began.

"Yeah, he had me watching some videos, and—Hey, will you train me in that?"

"Chuck." Oh shit, he knew that voice. That was Sarah's "Chuck we're about to die, shut up and listen" voice. "I need you to think about the video you watched where the defender grabbed the arm throwing the punch. Did you see anything like that?"

He blinked and thought back. "The one where he switched over to a headlock?" Chuck asked.

"That's the one!" Sarah replied. "When you get him in the headlock, let his momentum drive him into the wall, head first, that should knock him out."

"Okay," Chuck breathed. "I can do this?"

"You can do this, Chuck." He heard it in her voice. He could do it. The dark forces were wrong.

The door opened to his cell. "It's time for you to talk," Javier said, a glint in his eye.

"You and what army?" Chuck asked.

He saw the punch and dodged left as the fist came by, Chuck wrapped his right arm around the punch, his left around Javier's neck, and let the momentum drive Javier's head right into the concrete wall. He was out like a light. He didn't take the time to celebrate. Instead, Chuck bent down, and grabbed whatever the device was that he'd seen Javier stick in his pocket when he came in. "I have Sarah Walker," he announced at the unconscious assassin. "That—that's why I asked you and what army. 'Cause you'd...need an army to...You get it." He grabbed the keys, and headed out of the cell. He unlocked and opened Sarah's cell. She raised her eyebrows at seeing him, gaping for a moment, and then she shook herself and leapt into action.

"Let's go," she said, grabbing his arm.

"Where are we?" he asked, as they climbed up a staircase to the top of what looked to be a church bell tower.

"Mexico," she replied.

Before she could say more, he heard the sound of a gun going off and a bullet smacked into the wall by his head. Sarah grabbed him and tugged him with her behind a wall as Javier's reinforcements began shooting at them in earnest. Sarah returned fire, taking a few of them out, but Chuck knew math wasn't on her side. "I'm almost out," she said through gritted teeth. "We need to get off of this roof."

She was right. They were sitting ducks. Chuck looked around and saw a cable running from where they were to the ground. He looked down at his belt and had an idea. It was a crazy idea but it was an idea, nonetheless. He began to unbuckle his belt as Sarah turned and looked down, her eyes widening. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Zip line," he said, pointing to the cable, yanking his belt out of his pants loops. Sarah shook her head and then looked at all the guys with guns running toward them, then back at the cable dubiously. "Really?! You trusted me to beat up that tank guy in my cell, but this is where you draw the line?" Sarah gave him a look. "It will work, I promise!"

"I trust you," Sarah said then, nodding. Chuck threw the belt over the cable, Sarah wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, pressing her face into his hair, and down the cable they went. Adrenaline burst through him, right as they burst their way into what looked like a convenience store.

He reached over to where Sarah had ended up and grabbed her arm, checking to make sure she was okay. She was.

"I can't believe that worked," Chuck gasped.

"I'm not so sure it did," Sarah replied. Chuck followed her gaze and saw men with guns approaching them. They both raised their hands as Javier leveled his own gun at them.

"Sarah, there's something I really need to tell you," Chuck said, seeing no way out of the mess they were in.

"Not now, Chuck," she said.

"Actually this might be our last chance," Chuck began, but they both looked up as they saw a helicopter. The men with guns began to fire on it as they heard Casey give off a barbaric yell, returning his own fire. Chuck and Sarah ran for the helicopter and boarded as Casey took out Javier.

Chuck shoved at Sarah's back to help her in first and dove in after her just as the helicopter lifted off again. He had no idea how Casey had known where or how to find them. All he knew was that he was alive, Sarah was alive, and they were out of Javier's clutches and headed for home.

He'd survived his first mission as an actual agent with the NSA. He was a spy.

}o{

Chuck slumped into the courtyard, exhausted. After their briefing with General Beckman in Castle, he used the shower there. Ellie and Devon may know what he was doing now, but that didn't mean they were ready to see the evidence of the missions. In the shower, he'd seen the cuts and bruises as well as felt them. When he was finished, Castle was deserted, so he ambled across the parking lot, got in the Nerd Herder, and drove home.

He was slowly walking through the courtyard, trying to figure out a way to make his legs work without them aching, when her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"We need to talk."

He turned around to see her and blinked. Then he cleared his throat. "Yeah...okay…" He stepped towards her. "I'll go first?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm staying on, Chuck. I made a decision. I can't just walk away from this and let you die because you made a decision I don't agree with." He started to speak, but then he held his tongue, because the spy mask was gone. She just looked miserable. "I don't think you get how much you hurt me, or Ellie."

"I don't think you realize how little of a choice I actually had," Chuck countered.

She took a step toward him. "I get why you chose the way you did, but you didn't talk to me about it. I could have told you the reality of this life, the spy world. I would have. And then I would've let you decide for yourself, but with that extra knowledge of what you were getting yourself into. But you didn't trust me with that, Chuck, and I thought we were closer than that." Surprise lined his face and shock went through him and she must've seen it because she continued. "We both know I wasn't wrong to think that."

Chuck shook his head, trying to think of how to respond to her complete candidness. If he was honest, he wasn't expecting her to drop the spy mask and be this open about her feelings. And he decided to show her the respect of being just as open with her.

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that," he said, watching her closely. He watched her eyes widen a bit as she realized his meaning and she searched his face. He knew she was trying to decide if he was trying to be harsh on purpose, or if he was just being honest. "I thought that was how we were doing this...thing between us. That we were just supposed to know and that was enough...for then. But now...now we're both spies and it doesn't have to be that way."

"It's not going to be any way," she said curtly. "Are you not getting this? Still? Chuck, I've trusted only one man completely ever in my whole life." He felt the impact of that slam straight into his chest. "And all you had to do was trust me back. But you didn't. You've broken my trust."

"Sarah, what can I do to make this right?" He tried not to sound like he was begging, but part of him told him to get down on his knees right now. He didn't. He stayed on his feet.

"I don't know if you can," she replied quietly. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a watch. She studied him for a second like she was trying to decide what to do and what to say. "Here," she said, thrusting it at him. "It has a homing device, a built in compass, a lock pick, and other stuff you're gonna need. I'm going to teach you how to use it, and how to survive in the spy world."

Chuck took it. "Thank you," he said softly. He knew he shouldn't say it...but he did anyway. Because he was hurting. And sure, maybe part of it was self-pity. He was human. "It must be hard to work with someone you hate."

"I don't hate you," she said immediately, looking at him in frustration. "I'm not sure there's anything that could make me hate you, Chuck Bartowski. I just hate what you did."

He looked at her, not even bothering to hide what was in his heart. She knew it already anyway. Her bottom lip trembled just slightly.

"You trusted me." He put the watch on, then straightened his spine. "I broke that trust. And I guess it's up to me to earn that trust back." She looked away, and he gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist. It forced her blue eyes back to his face. "There's no ulterior motive here. I'm not angling for anything more from you than you're willing to give, not romance or even friendship, or anything else like that." She looked incredibly uncomfortable, but she didn't pull away, in spite of how much he knew she hated feeling vulnerable. "Sarah Walker, you deserve to have someone in your life you can trust." Her eyes grew wide. "I may be a spy now, but I'm living here, in this world, with my family and friends. I'm not living in the spy world. I have no intention of doing that. I'm the same Chuck Bartowski that I was before I made this decision, and you, Sarah Walker, are going to realize that while I made the dumbest mistake of my life not trusting you with the difficult decision I was trying to make, and...honestly...not being mature enough to take the potential backlash… I'm the same guy. I'm still gonna treat you the way I treat my friends, whether or not you consider me to be one of yours. That hasn't changed and it won't."

"I need to go," she said, pulling herself out of his grip and holding her wrist with her other hand, her fingers brushing where he'd held onto her.

"Yeah, I know." He cleared his throat, catching her eye and holding his wrist up. "Thank you for this, and for everything," he said. She nodded and took off.

He stood there quietly for a moment, staring at the gate she'd disappeared through. "Be the man worth figuring it out over, right, Casey?" he asked, feeling the big guy's presence.

"Yep, kid," Casey said, slapping him on the shoulder. "Come on, it's time you learn to fight. Walker can teach you that flippy shit later."

"You sure she wouldn't rather punch me?" Chuck groused.

"Why do you think I'm training you first," Casey said, heading for the car. Chuck sighed and followed.

The glorious life of being a spy.

* * *

 **A/N** : By now some of you have figured out where we are. What about the missed episodes? Will we continue in order? We have a plan.

Please review. Thanks!

-SC and DC


	58. Chapter 58

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we're not making any money from it.

* * *

"So to make a long story short, I opened the records and the charts showed he wasn't waking up anytime soon," Ellie said, holding her drink and giving an eye roll. Sarah was caught up in the story and was surprised at the fun time she was having. Earlier in the evening she had been surprised by the text she had gotten from Ellie asking if she had plans. Since Chuck had become an agent, the only plans she had were training him, and she decided she could use a night off, and Chuck would probably be glad for the break as well….to be fair, his body could use a day of recovery from what she and Casey had put him through the past two weeks.

Ellie's text told her to bring her dancing shoes, but when she arrived at the address she was surprised to find herself at a jazz bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, and Ellie had them a table in the back corner. Ellie explained to Sarah that her and Chuck knew the owner and anytime either of them wanted the back corner for privacy to have a talk, this is where they came. Sarah prepared herself for the questions about Chuck, but they never came. Instead the questions were about how she was, did she have the option of painting her room at Maison23 because that color was hideous. What movies did she like, not the ones Chuck asked her to watch?

Ellie quickly found out how little of a personal life Sarah had.

Ellie asked her if she had ever had rejection issues by her male coworkers and a smile covered both of their faces, and that is what had led Ellie to tell the story of how she had turned Brad down for a date because she was seeing Devon and what Brad proceeded to do about it.

"So here I was, in front of the family, about to give some horrible news when I double checked the entire file." Ellie snorted, making Sarah laugh. "The dipshit had switched everything, including x-rays." Ellie rolled her eyes again. "The patient had blunt force trauma, the x-rays showed someone without blunt force trauma. I then saw Brad slipping into the room, pretty sure he was trying to embarrass me, I and decided to cut him off at the knees." Ellie's eyes sparkled. "I told the family that someone had switched the files by accident and I needed to go find the right file. I looked over at Brad and said, 'oh, look, here's one of the other students helping me out.'" Sarah's eyes widened. "Brad's mouth was flopping like a fish out of water, I gently pulled the file out of his hands, and then opened it, verified the numbers on the EKG and on the patient's wrist band and told the family the news. After the family left, I spun and told him if he were the last man alive I wouldn't go out with him."

Sarah burst out into laughter. "God, it had to be a Brad, right?"

"He taught me something important that day, though." Sarah gave her an inquisitive look. "I learned to always double check a file before entering that room, to always make sure I had the right information about the right patient." She shook her head. "Can you imagine that family if I told them according to the EKG there was nothing showing he would ever wake up?"

"All because you wouldn't go out with him," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Men," she muttered.

There was a long, uncomfortable bit of silence then. "My brother?" Ellie finally asked, wincing a little.

Sarah paused. Then, "No. I mean, not like that. He's the furthest thing from a Brad. You know the kind of person he is. The kind of guy he is." She stared down at the table, nibbling the inside of her cheek. "He just… He's Chuck. He's difficult to understand, the decisions he makes. He does stupid things, but his heart is in the right place, and it's infuriating."

"For someone who was only fake dating him all this time, you know him pretty damn well," she teased. "He's a numbskull. A sweetheart, and a numbskull." Ellie opened her mouth as if she might say more, or maybe even ask Sarah a question, but then she shut it again, went back to her drink.

"It isn't just that," Sarah continued, realizing she was going out on a limb again. But Ellie knew about all of it, and she was sitting here, listening. And nobody knew Chuck better than this woman. "He's very different from the type of people who typically end up as spies, as intelligence agents. He's always looking out for people at his own expense. And in that way, he's so bad for this job. You'd think that'd make him good for it, but it isn't anything like they make this work seem in Hollywood." Ellie nodded, frowning a little. "But in virtually every other way, he's...the perfect candidate. He's going to make an incredible spy. He's a really fast learner. I should be glad to have someone like him as a partner."

There was silence again. "You aren't."

"You know why not."

"I don't blame you. As his sister and someone else who—I mean, as someone who loves him, it isn't exactly what I want for him." She shrugged. "It isn't up to us."

"He's saved my life." Ellie seemed to give her a double take at that. "More than once," she added. "With no training, no relative experience or knowledge about spying or being an agent. It was just...him. With training? With experience? He'll be unstoppable. He's insanely brave."

"Are you trying to make me feel a little better about this even though you don't like it?" Ellie asked, dry wit in her tone.

"Yeah, maybe." Sarah shrugged, then sipped her drink. "And myself. He...stayed… I mean, there was this thing we thought was a bomb, and I tried to make him run while I stayed behind to try to deactivate it. And he refused. He stood right there to try to help me. It didn't go off because it wasn't a bomb. But that's...that's what I've had to deal with." She gave Ellie a wan smile. "As his partner once we finish training and everything, I'm going to keep having to deal with it."

The other woman looked a little pale, and she wondered if she shouldn't have told her about the bomb that night. It'd be worse if she told her about the fact that she'd kissed Chuck, thinking she was about to die. It'd be so much worse. And then she muttered, "I kissed him", almost as if to spite herself. She shut her eyes tightly, and then reopened them.

"What?" Ellie asked.

Sarah didn't look. "I thought I was going to die. I mean, I thought we both were. And I just grabbed him and kissed him. Like _kissed him_ kissed him. It was gonna be my last act on Earth, and it was something I'd wanted to do for months."

"Oh."

"And that's also something I've had to deal with. It's probably one of the biggest things plaguing my mind around all of this, the reason why I'm being so hard on him about keeping me out of his decision to join the NSA." She cleared her throat. She wondered what was going through Ellie's head as she swirled her drink distractedly and stared off to the side. "I-I don't even know why I told you that. Ugh. He's your brother," she said, shaking her head.

"No, no. Sarah. Come on. No. Stop that. You can talk to me."

"Well, I'm sure it's hard for you to hear about the dangerous stuff."

"It's not that," Ellie replied, looking...guilty? "I asked you to stay, Sarah. I practically begged. Because Chuck trusts you, and _I_ trust you. And I don't want anything to happen to him and I know he...Well, he needs you." She made a face. "However you wanna take that." _Yikes._ "But it wasn't at all fair for me to ask you. Especially… Well, I'm not going to assume to know what's...between you two. I mean, the cover boyfriend girlfriend thing aside. This...isn't going to be easy for either of you. At all. And I feel bad. Like I overstepped, even if it is in Chuck's best interest."

"Overstepped? Because you pegged me as someone who could make sure he doesn't get killed? I'd say you're just smart, Ellie And that you care about him." She gave the other woman a small, crooked smirk.

"Ha. What I am is selfish." She huffed. "I didn't think about how it'd be for you. After he lied to you when you thought he trusted you, you know? And now you're here because I made you come back."

Did Ellie not understand? She could protect him, and she would. She refused to watch him turn into what she saw in the mirror every day. Or maybe she'd have no choice. But the least she could do was allow him to make his own decision, and guide him through it as best she could so he didn't die. He said he could do this and she had to try and help him. She had to make sure he had all the tools he needed to be prepared for this life.

Sarah reached across the table and took Ellie's hand. Ellie looked at her, a question in her features.

"I was going to stay. Whether you showed up at my room or not, Ellie. I wasn't leaving him. We both know that." Ellie began to shake her head. "Ellie, we both know that. Yeah, it's not easy. Pfft, it's practically torture thinking about the implications of all of this, helping him get to a place I'm pretty sure I don't want him to go. This is not going to be the cake walk he thinks." Ellie sighed and Sarah smiled at her friend, sitting back against her chair. "Here's the thing, I'm not sure he had any other choice."

"He should've told you. In that, he did have a choice, whether he felt obligated to join the NSA or he really wanted to, he chose not to trust you with this," Ellie said, leaning in a little. Sarah nodded slowly, wondering how Ellie could see it so clearly when Chuck had missed the point so horribly. "This...this is something completely different. Again, I don't assume to know any of the details besides what you and Chuck have told me, Sarah, but he's been adamant about how you're the one person in all of this who always supported him and had his back. And then you ended up being the one person he didn't…"

"He didn't tell, yeah," she finished for her. "I don't understand why. But Chuck doesn't do things without having a reason. It hurts to wonder what that reason might've been, whatever it is. Like I did something to make him think he couldn't trust me enough to talk to me about the offer and his decision to accept it."

Ellie looked at her. "I don't know about what went on between you two, outside of what you both let us see. Maybe he did have a reason. The guy has this almost crippling self-doubt ever since he's kicked out of college, and then all of a sudden he decides to join the NSA." She huffed, then paused thoughtfully. "Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on him. He's spreading his wings. I'm just scared he's gonna spread 'em too wide, get too high where he's more visible to all these bad people and terrorists and then he gets shot." She pushed the alcohol away. "I've had too much of this, maybe." Sarah giggled, earning a wan smile. "You know what I mean. I have to live with the guy and I've been making it kind of miserable, not on purpose...er, all the time. I just see him around the apartment and I can't stop thinking about him in this life and all of the horrific violent things that could happen to him. That he could die. I know I'm being dramatic, but he's my only blood family. At least, that gives a shit about me." She scoffed.

"I'm not telling you what to do but…" Sarah sighed. "I'm already giving him enough trouble, I'm sure. He needs you. He relies on your support. Especially now that you know everything."

"Mmm." Ellie nodded. "He lives in my apartment. I've been a little too much maybe, for all three of us." Then she sighed. "I love him, but I don't have much of a choice in the matter. As his big sister. Gotta make the best of this. But...that's just me."

Sarah didn't say anything to that. She also didn't want to dwell on Ellie's word choice there. So instead she thought about how she'd have to watch him fight a losing battle against the NSA and see him slowly destroyed from the inside. Maybe she could find a way to compartmentalize and push the guilt out of her mind, like she had for the past few weeks. Maybe she and Ellie both could figure out how to be Chuck's back-up and support without necessarily being happy about any of this.

"He cares about your opinion." Sarah looked up at Ellie as the other woman continued. "It isn't just me he needs supporting him. You mean a lot to him. Your opinion means more to him than anyone else's I think. Even mine. At least, that's how he makes it seem when he talks to me."

"Yeah, right," she muttered, and she thought about how badly she wanted to be a fly on the wall during those conversations between Chuck and his sister. And then at the same time that was the last thing she wanted to be.

"I'm not here as his sister," Ellie softly reassured her. "I'm here as your friend. Your opinion means _everything_ to him. I'm telling you the truth."

"That's the problem," Sarah replied, leaning back. She crossed her arms. "It means so much to him that he chose to dive headfirst into my world to make himself...I don't know. Impressive isn't the word, but just...someone I might want to be with. He definitely didn't read the room. If he had, he would've let me find some other way out of this instead of choosing the spy life and choosing not to confide in me."

Ellie gaped.

"What?" Sarah asked. She decided to throw the brunette's words back at her. "I'm not your brother's cover girlfriend and spy partner, I'm your friend."

That got a snort out of Ellie. "You went there, Sarah." Sarah shrugged. "Stop piling this all on your head. He's a grown man. He made this choice. We can stand beside him and glare at him at the same time."

"I wish it was that easy," Sarah replied, frustrated as she threw her drink back and gulped it, wincing a little at how hard it'd gone down that time. She felt herself slip into her own head, then, and she wished she maybe hadn't said that. Ellie was smart enough to read between the lines, wasn't she? Maybe if she was given a rational explanation, something that would sufficiently explain why Chuck had done what he'd done, it'd make all of this easier.

And that warmth that had been there, that extra...something...that was so hard to define for her but that was constantly there between them…

Whatever Chuck's reason was for not telling her about the choice Beckman had given him, and the decision he ultimately made, he was still in the NSA. He was still on a crash course towards becoming more like her, like Casey, becoming less like himself. He couldn't possibly make that choice if he really understood just how broken her insides were. And Casey's. The more he became an agent, the less he'd be...well, the gift that he was. Not just to her, but to everyone, the whole stupid world.

She couldn't be with him and watch that descent at the same time. She wasn't capable of that kind of selfishness. She couldn't take from him whatever he meant to offer her—and knowing Chuck, it would be his whole self—and watch him destroy himself at the same time. She couldn't give her whole self back to him the way he deserved while that was happening, and it wasn't fair to willingly be a part of that.

If Ellie put the pieces together, she mercifully didn't mention it. And Sarah was incredibly grateful to her for it. She also thought maybe Ellie was hyper aware of the things she was saying to Sarah now that she knew she was a spy, not because she didn't trust her—she felt Ellie trusted her by now—but because she could probably tell Sarah was a lit fucking fuse that might go off at any moment if she was pushed too hard emotionally.

And maybe Ellie was right to think that.

Before Chuck, this shit had never been a problem. His emergence in her life had set her on a path through completely unchartered emotional territory and she couldn't find her footing.

"It's my fault," she said quietly. "All of this crap."

"No, it isn't..." Ellie began.

"Come on, Ellie. This is your brother joining the NSA, walking head-first into a life of danger. Be angry with me. I didn't do enough to show him the reality of this life, how it can be so fucking hard some days that it just..." She huffed and shook her head. "He hasn't seen near what Casey and I have seen as agents, even with all the danger the Intersect has stuck him in the middle of." On top of how much she'd allowed herself to indulge in with him, the kiss by the bomb, the conversations about the feelings they shared, even if they agreed it was too dangerous to act on them. She could at least admit that to herself silently. She'd given herself too much already. She'd taken too much. She'd wanted him too much and perhaps she lost control and accidentally let him see every so often. She'd been compromised and incompetent in letting him see and he thought they could actually explore all of that if he became an agent.

There were other factors, she knew, keeping himself out of a bunker, for one...but if she hadn't been there...if they hadn't had this thing spark up between them...

"Then why isn't it also Casey's fault?" Ellie asked. Sarah stopped, and looked away. "Sarah, you put a lot of shit on yourself and don't stop to consider who else might share the blame." Sarah turned toward Ellie and stared at her. "No, I mean it. Maybe Chuck didn't know the full nature of what he signed himself up for, but he signed himself up for it anyway, and Casey can pretend he's an innocent bystander in all this, but he didn't prepare Chuck for the reality of the spy world either." She huffed then and rolled her eyes. "At least Chuck is definitely aware he fucked up, at least as far as you're concerned. He's very aware. He's miserable."

Sarah felt a pang go through her chest. "Ugh, I know. But I don't get it how you don't hate me when I might end up being what sends your brother to an early grave?"

Ellie sat there for a second, gathering herself. Sarah felt bad because she thought maybe that was a serious jolt Chuck's sister hadn't been prepared for. But then Ellie spoke before she could apologize for being so blunt. "You're putting yourself in a very difficult situation, Sarah. And I'm not stupid, I know it isn't for me. I know my cornering you at your place isn't what made you come back. I know it's him...and it's you. But you're being brave. I don't...know you at all, really. I know you enough to like you, but that doesn't mean I know everything about the way that brain of yours works. And I can only imagine it'd be a lot easier to just cut ties to this whole thing, to this city, and just go back to the way your life was before this...mission or whatever. You didn't do that, Sarah." She sighed, shaking her head. "You aren't going to do that. You've made that pretty clear. How in the hell could I hate you knowing what you're doing for my brother? At the expense of…" She paused and looked away. "You know, things. Other things."

Sarah knew they were both aware of the "things" Ellie was referring to. And still, Ellie seemed tentative about going too far with what she probably thought she saw between Sarah and Chuck. The _real_ things she probably thought she saw. Sarah was glad, if she was being honest. She didn't want to have to sit here over drinks and talk about the fact that she had seriously intense feelings for Chuck Bartowski, and that nothing about any of this had changed that, but that she was also going to have to resist him even harder than she'd been resisting him before now that he'd made this choice to drown himself in her truly dangerous world that would fuck him up—because it fucked everyone up. That she'd be forced to help him… It was like holding the door open for him to get into a car that she knew was going to head straight off a cliff.

Fuck.

Sarah put her hand over Ellie's. "Thank you. Seriously. Thank you."

"So hand-holding, huh," they heard a voice behind them. "Are you cover dating all the Bartowskis?" Sarah turned around slowly and sighed.

"Uh, Carina, now isn't the best time," Sarah began, as Carina sat down beside Ellie.

"Carina, Sarah's BFF," Carina said to the surprised brunette.

Ellie snapped right back into it and cleared her throat. "Ellie, grateful to Sarah."

"I like her," Carina said to Sarah.

"Wait, so...are you...CIA?" Ellie asked. "Should I ask that? Shit, probably not."

Carina's eyes widened. "Holy shit, Blondie, how deep are you in?"

"Chuck is now with the NSA," Sarah replied. "His sister has now been read in on the basics...which we both know you are anything but basic." She sent Ellie a subtle shake of the head, hoping the woman understood not to divulge a single thing she knew to the redhead. This could be a shit hitting the fan moment. And that was the last thing they needed, Carina knowing about the Intersect.

"What happened?" Carina asked, her eyes narrowing. "He cheat on you?"

"No, he joined the NSA," Sarah replied. "He's an agent, in training, and I'm still his cover girlfriend. Not that it's any of your business." Carina turned to Ellie who shrugged.

"She got pissed about something," Carina said in what was supposed to be a low voice to Ellie but was said where Sarah could hear. "She was the same way after… Well, you're probably not cleared for that."

"Can you stop fishing? I don't owe you any kind of explanation. He made the decision and didn't even tell me he'd started his training, okay?" Sarah groused, feeling exceptionally brittle at the annoying appearance of Carina right when she and Ellie were in the middle of an important discussion.

"Well, yeah, of course he didn't tell you about his decision. You would'a freaked out and been a hard ass, Sarah. And it isn't like he's Mr. Confidence, or really anything close to the spy that Mr. Blue Eyes Larkin is." She reached over and grabbed Sarah's drink, rolling her eyes upon finding it empty and slamming it back down again.

Sarah gawked. "He is every bit as smart, if not smarter, and—You know, look, I'm not talking about this with you. I'm especially not going to talk about Chuck with you."

Carina grinned. "Well, I've got some bad news for you then. I've got this big deal going down, and I told my contact on my team that there's a couple." She batted her eyelashes. "Unless you want to be a couple with Casey."

Ellie snorted with a, "Dear God."

Sarah stared at Carina for a second. "How did you know I was here?" Carina and Ellie shared a look. "Oh, God, Ellie… Did you tell her I would be here?"

"She said she was an old friend and it was important and she needed to see you," Ellie said with a wince. "But I did just want us girls to get away for a while."

Sarah looked from one to the other.

"We can find you a man to dance with," Carina began, but Sarah gave her a look. "Right, you're still upset that he kept something from you the way you keep stuff from him."

Ellie's eyes widened.

"Now wait a minute," Sarah began. "My skeletons are my own, okay? You probably have more than I do. Have you ever told anyone?"

Carina laughed. "Hell no. But I never called the Truth Police on other people either. It's easier to just never trust anybody, Blondie. Simple as that."

"That's kind of depressing," Ellie muttered. "You have to trust _someone_...some _time_."

"Yeah, but look. Sarah trusted the nerd—sorry, ahem, _Chuck_ ," she corrected when Ellie narrowed her eyes. "And look how he apparently threw it in her face by not trusting her back? Now she's all butt hurt and things are probably _super_ awkward on your cute little team, eh Blondie?"

Before Sarah could stick up for herself, Ellie stepped in. "First of all, my brother is trustworthy, whether he...misses the mark sometimes or not. He has a big heart. He always has. Sure, he has to face the consequences for his misstep. But it's for Sarah to decide how she reacts to what he did. Not for Chuck, not for me, and definitely not for you."

Carina blinked, and then she grinned. "Well, you sure told me. God, I really like you. I have so much respect for you. You know that? If you want to join the DEA, I could use a woman with a straight spine made out of steel and a stiff upper lip. Whadda ya say, Ellie?"

"I'll stay in surgery, thank you." Ellie looked like she was just barely holding onto the politeness she typically tried to carry around with her wherever she went. Carina had a way of pushing buttons...even with the Bartowskis. If it wasn't so annoying, Sarah would be impressed.

"Suit yourself, then." Carina clapped her hands together. "So you're not big on drug busts, but do ya dance?"

Ellie gave Carina a blank look.

"That looks sort of like a yes. Maybe. We can work on you and this Chuck thing later, Sarah. Let's get drunk and dance tonight." Carina leaned in towards Sarah. "And tomorrow? A new mission. All of us. What fun."

This was going to suck. Absolutely suck.

}o{

"We could go out," Morgan offered.

"Nah," Chuck replied, paying attention to the game, but not.

For two weeks Sarah and Casey had pushed him, made him work out, and he was exhausted. He didn't have the energy to go to a club, but even if he did, he just wasn't emotionally up for it.

He was safer here, in known surroundings, with a friend, and a video game.

He missed his team. They were right next to him every single day, especially Sarah, with all of their training they had him doing. And he still missed her, missed all three of them and the way they all worked together. While her mask wasn't always in place the way he feared it might be, she was fully focused on the task at hand.

She wasn't harsh. She wasn't impatient if he got things wrong. She'd say, "It's okay. We'll just go again. You've got this." But it still didn't feel the same. She was training him to be a spy, and it felt like she was doing it for him. But it still felt like there was so much space between them. That she was merely a teacher, a partner… She kept her distance still.

When they talked it was all business, and even Casey had a way of holding his hands up and leaving the room if Chuck tried to talk to him about it, as if he didn't want to get in the middle. Like he was washing his hands of whatever drama he perceived Chuck might try to bring up.

"We have business to take care of," he'd said today when Chuck opened his mouth to speak.

"Casey, I just need—"

"Bartowski, zip it. I can't control how things go outside of your training. That's all I'm focused on. And if that's all she wants to focus on, you gotta let her." Casey ended it there and Chuck understood.

He moped. But the lack of anger or outright bitterness he thought she'd push at him wasn't there. That was the silver lining. He imagined she was frustrated with him, that she was probably still hurt. But she hadn't exactly put walls up. Even if she kept her distance.

"Well, the good news is no training tonight," she'd said earlier as she came back into the room.

"Oh," Chuck replied. "I thought we were scheduled to do some more Aikido?" She studied him for a second. "Got a date?" he asked with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"I need a break from Castle and your sister gave me a good reason to step back. She's been trapped at the hospital. So...we're going out to try to have some fun." She added, "For once" under her breath, and he couldn't begrudge her or his sister.

"Oh! Oh, that's… I'm glad. I'm glad you two are—I mean, you both need that. So I...am glad."

She sent him a small smile, but didn't give him anything else.

"Have fun. Tell her hi. I live with her but I'm also a little wary about introducing conversation because she might bite my head off if I do. So I'm glad she'll have you to talk to at least."

Sarah crossed her arms. "She might surprise you. Maybe you don't know her as well as you think."

He'd been stuck on the extra meaning to her words all day now. Dwelling on that. On what she meant. If she meant he should try to talk to Ellie again, apologize to her again, mend that fence so he had someone he could really talk to about all of this… Or was she referring to herself too? Maybe he really didn't know Sarah as well as he thought, and maybe if he had, he would've felt more secure talking to her about wanting to join the NSA. He would've known how she might react to it. And then he'd go into that conversation prepared.

Maybe he would've known better than to ask her out on a real date and tell her then. Idiot. God, he felt like such a moron for that. He should've just told her when Beckman and Casey offered him the choice. Consequences be damned. It was immature to set up an elaborate date scenario. What'd he _think_ would happen?

He regretted it now. More than anything, he regretted not just being up front with Sarah. He could deal with her anger over him joining the NSA. She knew by now that the bunker was definitely the worse option. But if he'd just been honest…

His character on the game died and he tossed his controller onto the table.

"Dude," Morgan said, clapping his hand on his shoulder and his eyes growing wide, feeling the muscle in Chuck's are that wasn't quite so pronounced before. "Have you been working out?"

"A little," Chuck admitted.

"Trying to bulk up to impress your girl? Not a bad idea, Chuck, not a bad idea at all."

"No, just thought maybe...maybe I should take a little better care of myself."

Morgan's eyes widened and began to wonder. "Where is the Lady Sarah?"

She's...out...with Ellie," Chuck replied, shaking his head. "I screwed up so bad, Morgan."

"Dude, what do you mean? I mean, it's nice, having your girlfriend and your sister wanting to hang out. Remember how much Ellie hated your other girlfriends? Yikes. What, you think they're gonna spend the whole time talking about you?" Chuck turned to him, his eyes wide. "It's fiiiiiiine. Chuck, dude. All of your baby stories are cute, even if they're a little embarrassing."

God, what if they were spending the whole night talking about him? How pissed they both were at him?

"Morgan, you don't understand—"

The door flew open. Morgan and Chuck both turned toward the doorway, their mouths open. There stood Ellie, Sarah, and Carina.

"Ellie, are you all right?" Morgan asked, rushing toward her. She looked… Well, very drunk.

"See… Tell 'im. Tell Chuck. Sometime you need to think about other people besides yourself, Chuck. You try to do the right thing, I get it, but you jus' go about it the wrong way sometimes and I love you so much but you really need to...think..." Ellie slurred at Chuck. Then she looked at Morgan. "Why is Morgan touching me?"

"Oh, boy," Chuck muttered.

"We went dancing and Ellie...well," Sarah said, looking apologetic.

"I'm tryin' to fix it is what I did, fixing... _everything_ ," Ellie said, waving her arm. "I'm gonna throw a party, and you are going to be there... _together damn it_...or...don't make me say wuz af'er the or."

"Carina, will you help Morgan with Ellie? Please?" Sarah asked, her gaze not breaking Chuck's. "Chuck and I need to talk". Carina nodded and helped Morgan walk Ellie to her bedroom.

"Was it the mojitos, Ellie? Because we've talked about your mojito tolerance..." Morgan asked, guiding her.

"No! Why are you still so close to me?" Ellie mumbled, heading into her room. "E'ryone is so unhappy. Nobody can jus' be happy anymore. Why can't we all jus' agree to be in love and happy and screw all the res' of it!"

They sounded like they were having trouble getting Ellie down the hallway, and it wasn't fast enough for Sarah, so she huffed and gestured with a flick of her head. "Let's go outside." She turned and left before Chuck could say anything.

Chuck followed her out into the courtyard, shut the door, and leaned against the door frame.

"I'm...sorry she—" She gestured towards the apartment. "I wasn't watching what she was drinking. And I think Carina thought Broken Filter Ellie was funny and secretly slipped her more to drink without me...paying enough attention."

"No, hey." Chuck shook his head. "It's okay," he chuckled. "She's a grown woman...that's what she would say in this situation, at least. If she were sober."

Sarah gave him a wan smile. "Right. She's just...under a lot of pressure at work."

He gave her a bit of a flat look, and then a crooked smile. "That's nice of you to say that, but Ellie can do her job. She can handle work pressure. That drunk Ellie in there is because of me. I'm to blame for most of that. I know I am"

She didn't seem to want to respond to that. "Come over here so Morgan won't hear us," she said then, waving him away from the door.

Chuck rolled his head on his shoulders, popping something in his neck, earning an eyebrow raise from Sarah, before he walked over to her.

"Shouldn't we wait until morning if this is spy related?" he asked. "We're missing a certain John Casey and I'm assuming Carina showing up to crash your girl time with Ellie means something is up."

"Normally I'd agree, but we have to talk about the cover," Sarah began.

"No," Chuck said, shaking his head. "No cover." Sarah stared at him. "You're pissed at me and I completely understand that, I can't begrudge you. I don't. There are issues here," he gestured between them, "but it isn't fair for us to both go through this, playing this cover when things are...the way they are...between us right now. I'm not putting you through—"

" _You're_ not putting me through anything," she retorted.

"Fine," he said, turning to walk away.

"So how will you explain to Morgan why we're not together anymore?" Sarah asked, making him pause. He turned back to her. "You can't tell him the truth."

"Sarah, come on, Morgan is, like, constantly asking about you and watching our relationship like a hawk. He's protective," he explained when she furrowed her brow. "Of both of us now." He couldn't tell if that had warmed her heart or made her uncomfortable. Maybe both. "He's gonna notice if you're acting like...this...around me." He cleared his throat, squirming a bit under her stare.

Thankfully she didn't ask "Like what?" like he was afraid she would.

"I'm a spy, Chuck. I've been at this for years. I've had to pretend to like people I've absolutely _hated_ before; pretending with _you_ in front of Morgan will be a piece of cake in comparison." She said it so matter-of-factly and it almost made him feel better. Almost.

Chuck shook his head though. "It's different, Sarah. And you know it is. All of this is different than anything you've had to do before."

"I'm a professional," she explained.

Chuck nodded. "Right. And I'm not." She narrowed her eyes, not seeming to understand what he was getting at. "Haven't I proven that this week? That I'm not a professional?"

"You're still in training, Chuck," she reasoned. "That's what Casey and I are here for. You chose to become a spy, this is the path you picked, so here I am ready to help you. You thought you could just snap your fingers and be all caught-up in an hour when every other person who ever entered this business goes into the Farm or whatever else training facility an agency might use for months, sometimes years?"

"No, of course not." His shoulders slumped a bit.

"Chuck, go a little easier on yourself." He gave her a look. "Point taken." At least she looked a bit sheepish. Like _she_ was going easy on him at all? "I meant with training, though," she said quietly.

"What if after all of this, after the decision I made and the people I pissed off, I fall flat on my face?" He huffed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's not your job to build me up right now. I heard you loud and clear when you said we aren't friends anymore, that we're just partners, a team."

She definitely looked uncomfortable this time. "You didn't fall flat on your face in Mexico. And until Javier kidnapped us, even if I didn't really get it at the time, you didn't fall flat on your face at the bar, either."

"I literally did, Sarah. Literally, right on my face."

"Yeah, 'cause you tackled me to keep me from being assassinated, Chuck."

"But I—"

"I know you can do this, Chuck!" she cut him off, stepping in closer, almost hissing at him, trying to keep from raising her voice. "And it scares me." The courtyard was quiet for a few moments. When she spoke again, it was very softly. "Chuck, you _can_ do this, it's just not what I want for you. That doesn't matter now anyway," she rushed, that vulnerable and uncomfortable look back on her features as she shifted her weight. "You made your choice and you can't take it back. We're all just gonna have to do our best."

"Sarah, I need your help," Chuck said. "However you can give it."

"You're going to get it." She swallowed hard enough for him to hear it. "If you want to drop this cover, I'll help you figure out a way to do it that won't wreck Morgan's spirit." He smiled a little at her. "But it would be a lot easier if we just kept it up. The less drama, the better." She winced when he raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, I heard how that sounded, too, but it's...the truth."

He stared just over her head, nibbling his lip. "Someday, they might be able to get the Intersect out of my head, Sarah. What if they don't want or need me anymore after that? What if I'm done with all of this?"

"Chuck, that's not how this works. And if you'd just talked to me, I could have told you that. I could have explained the way all of this works to you." He sighed and let his head drop, his chin against his chest. "They get you in, they sink their claws into you, and then you won't want to leave. You'll think it's the best thing you can do, you'll think it's for the greater good…" He peeked up at her and saw she was staring off to the side, her blue eyes going dim. "...and then the next thing you know you're a broken shell of the person you were before. I don't want it happening to you."

"Then help me make sure it doesn't," Chuck pleaded.

"I've seen it happen to literally everyone in this business, Chuck. I'll try, but…" She shook her head, pushing her hand through the air. "Look...We have to be a cover couple. It's just what's best for this situation. It's too much to explain if we aren't a couple. In the morning we'll get an assignment from Carina."

"Okay," he replied, nodding. He knew there was no use to continuing the conversation. Sarah had slipped the mask on. "Maybe this is the worst possible time to ask this, but can we at least try to be friends again?"

"I don't know, Chuck," she replied after a long pause. An upset look crossed her face then and she walked away, leaving him standing there.

He tilted his head back and looked at the sky. "She didn't say no," he muttered to himself. "That's a start."

}o{

Sarah finished slipping her knife into the holster around her thigh and pulled her dress down over it, smoothing her hands down the front and looking at herself in the mirror.

"Paperwork Soundtrack for Sarah?" she heard Carina's voice come from across the room. Sarah rolled her eyes and turned to watch Carina approach. "The hell is this?"

"Why are you going through my stuff?"

"I wasn't going through your stuff. It was literally sitting on top of your dresser." She wiggled the CD in its case back and forth. "What is it?"

"It's just a CD, Carina. Not a big deal." She could still see Chuck pulling it out of his messenger bag when he stopped by after work one evening. He'd remembered her whining about how boring and tedious paperwork was between missions and he'd made her a CD with a mix of songs he used to do physics homework to. The perfect balance of not putting her to sleep and not distracting her too much that she couldn't concentrate on what was in front of her. She'd only actually listened to it once. Fine, twice...maybe even three times. But never while she was actually doing paperwork.

"Uh...huh. Sure. Mr. Analyst to NSA put his name at the bottom here. Not surprised he's the Makes Mixtapes for His Girlfriend type of guy if I'm being honest." She snorted derisively.

Sarah went straight for her makeup bag and started working on her eyelashes, ignoring Carina completely, even though she could feel the other woman's penetrating gaze on the side of her face. "What?" she finally asked, as if totally unbothered.

"Do you, uuhhh, wanna talk about what happened with him?"

No, Sarah didn't. She really didn't. And she dropped her gaze, taking a deep breath, squirming in discomfort. Carina definitely wasn't her go-to person for emotions. She hadn't been her go-to for anyone or anything else, and she definitely wouldn't be for Chuck. It just wasn't the way this relationship of theirs worked. And that was fine with Sarah. And with Carina. This worked just fine the way it was.

Carina hummed. "When we wrap this mission, why don't you come with me on my next gig? Just us girls again. Get the hell outta here. Get into some trouble in Saint-Tropez. I mean...it's no Burbank, of course," she scoffed sarcastically.

Sarah sniffed in amusement for Carina's benefit, smiling just a little as she put her earrings in. And then she caught sight of the CD again, Chuck's weirdly neat scrawl that she'd come to recognize as well as she recognized her own handwriting, just about.

"Do you ever...wonder about a different life? Like...not the spy life. Something...normal. Regular."

"You meeean, something like frying hot dogs or putting frozen gunk into cups for hormonal teenagers? Driving around in a Le Sabre and listening to your boyfriend's hot new mix CD with Barbra Streisand songs on it?" She laughed and shook her head. "No. I don't," she said emphatically.

Well, that shut Sarah up real quick. And she was about to walk away from the mirror altogether when Carina's hand clamped down on her wrist and held on to keep her there. "You do?"

Sarah pressed her lips together and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm human, I guess. I've…" She sighed.

"You've thought about it. Chuckie, huh? Did he really do that big of a number on you?" Sarah shook her head and got an incredibly flat look from the DEA agent. "What happened? Seriously."

"It's like I said the other night when we were having drinks with Ellie, he's...been a lot more involved in the mission," Sarah started. Carina shrugged. "He's been training to be a full-fledged agent. Like, in the field. Casey's pulled him in to be a full-fledged NSA agent." She shook her head then with a huff. "It's more like Chuck chose to dive headfirst into being a spy and Casey just…"

"Filled the pool for 'im?" Carina finished.

Sarah sent her a look, but then she bobbed her eyebrows and nodded.

"I still don't see what's so bad about that." The redhead smirked. "Wowwww, Blondie. I had no idea you were such a snob. You only get into bed with CIA now? No NSA men for our Blondie…"

"Shut up, Carina. It's not that. I don't care what agency…" If anything, the NSA was a lot safer for him than the CIA, what with the way things had gone pear-shaped over in Langley, Director Graham being killed in the explosion, leadership roles up in the air. It was a whole shitshow over there and Beckman was a good leader, a strong and dependable leader. "I care that he's…" She shrugged, not knowing how to finish that.

"I got the feeling the other night you think he's too good for field work. Is that it?" she asked, and there was no sarcasm, no biting wit, in her voice. "Wanna keep him in the van behind the computer screen? Or...is it that you think the curly-haired dreamboat is gonna get iced on a mission?"

"It's not that, Carina. You know how this life is. You know what...what we're like. Us. You, me, Casey… There's a...hardness in us. The spy life made us this way."

"Yeah, sweetie, that's what keeps us alive," Carina drawled, applying her eyeliner.

Sarah just looked at her for a few moments, then shrugged. "He's not...like that. I'm sure you can see it when you aren't too busy trying to flirt with him to make him uncomfortable and piss me off."

"Oh, he's a total soft boy. I'm surprised you guys are planning to give him a gun. Sure he won't shoot himself in the foot?"

"That's what the training is for," Sarah said, the thought of Chuck with a gun making her feel admittedly queasy. It just didn't fit.

"Or worse, I can see him not being able to take a shot in the field because he doesn't wanna hurt someone. The guy makes CD mixes." She grabbed the CD again and waved it in Sarah's face. "I can see why you'd be worried about him in the field."

"I'm not worried about him in the field. He's smart and he's brave and he's a fast learner. I just don't want him to become us."

"Well, tough shit. If you wanna be a spy, Blondie, this is what you get."

"I know. That's the point."

"So this...different life...was that...something you were waiting for? With him?" She leaned against the dresser and raised an eyebrow. And Sarah realized she had no idea how Carina would react if she told her yes—whether it was true or not.

"Not really. I don't know. But he's an agent now, a spy. And...God, he told everyone else about it but me. And I don't get why, like I did something to make him think he couldn't trust me with it, and I hate feeling like this. I hate the whole thing. I shouldn't even be talking about it with you. It's-It's stupid. I'm a complete…"

"Sap?" Carina shrugged her shoulders in agreement. "Yeah. You are." Sarah glared. "What? You are! You're being a sap, Sarah. And that's not something I ever thought I'd say about you. It's a little cute but mostly sad."

"Can you stop being outright mean maybe? Jesus. This is the last time I say something to you about...anything."

Carina put her hand on her shoulder and looked her in the face. "Look, Blondie. I'm...sorry. It's just that this whole...thing? You and the kid? You're stuck here. You're forcing yourself to stick around this place why exactly? To help train him? Because GB ordered you to? Or are you legit crazy about him and you don't _wanna_ leave him? You need to figure out which one it is, and then you need to fix your shit. There's a reason spies are hard on the inside, there's a reason we're cold. We'd never survive this gig otherwise. I love your face, Blondie, really. And I appreciate your honesty and shit, but…" She squeezed Sarah's wrist. "Bury it away for this assignment at least. This is a big one. You can punch the guy in the throat for lying to you, for deciding to become a spy, after this. I'll even hold him still for ya. Deal?"

Sarah smirked a little and shook her head. "We're not made for that kind of life, are we? A normal life?"

"Nnnnnnope. Maybe what you and Chuckie need is a really good sex fest, and it'll clear up all the stupid emotions clogging you up and causing whatever…" She gestured vaguely at Sarah. "This is." Sarah just gaped at her. "He can make a CD mix for it."

Sarah shoved a laughing Carina and walked clear away.


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N:** We have a friend who's celebrating his birthday today and we'd like to wish him a very happy birthday. He knows who he is. This chapter's your birthday gift, dude. Thanks for being such a great supporter and reader! Stay safe and strong. We got your back.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't owe Chuck. We're not making any money for writing and posting this.

* * *

He leaned his face against the doorframe, the wood nice and cool against his cheek, and he stared into the abyss. Aka his closet.

Even just a month ago, this would've been so easy. He'd step into the hallway, bellow out the same "Elliiiiiiieeee" in the same note he'd done it ever since high school. And she'd come to his rescue, a bemused look on her face.

He needed her now. But he couldn't go out into the hallway and bellow for his sister's fashion help like everything was okay and normal between them, because everything wasn't okay and normal between them. It would feel awful to try and pretend that it was, like nothing had happened. Like she wasn't upset with him still.

So he just stood there, staring at the row of ties, so completely lost as to how one paired a tie to a suit. This was a fancy get-together, and he assumed he'd be tasked with blending in. How would he do that if he picked the wrong tie? Which tie did he need? He was useless in this department.

God, what was he going to do when he lived alone at some point? Would they teach him this in the NSA? Was this part of his training? Maybe he could sign up for a Tie-Choosing 101 class?

He was losing his mind.

Over a tie.

Huffing, he stepped into the closet and grabbed a blue one, but then he changed his mind, picking the red. It had silk lines of an almost darker red running through it and it was nice and smooth. But it also looked like the sort of thing that was more tuxedo appropriate.

"Gah, whatever!" He snagged a tie with a blue and green plaid pattern and walked over to the mirror to put it on, tying it quickly and calling it a day.

He didn't give a shit anymore, he just wanted to go over to Casey's and get this mission over with.

Shoving his phone and keys into his pocket, he left his bedroom and headed down the hallway, meaning to go right through the front door, across the courtyard, and to Casey's apartment.

But as he emerged out of the hallway and into the living room, he saw his erstwhile fashion helper sitting at the table in her scrubs, a large mug of tea cradled between her hands.

She looked up at him, took him in, and frowned.

He stopped, turning to face her, and her eyes fastened on his outfit. She got the look.

Damn it. What'd he do wrong? What was it? Shoes? Socks? Tie? The whole ensemble?

Throughout his teens and his adulthood so far, whenever he was going on a date, he would emerge from his room and sometimes she'd get The Look. She'd take him in, and her face would go blank almost, and then she'd glance off to the side like she was trying to mind her own business. That part of it _never_ worked. He saw it every time. And every time he did what he was going to do now.

He sagged a little and sighed. "What?" he asked dully.

Ellie raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Nothing."

"Not nothing. What's wrong? What'd I do wrong?" He gestured to his outfit with a hand.

"I said nothing. Nothing's wrong." She shrugged again, sipping her tea.

He pushed a hand through his hair. "You got the look, Ellie. I saw it. I know you're mad at me but you can't let me go out there looking like a fool if I look like a fool. That's just mean."

She gave him a wan look this time, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Come on," she said then, standing up from the table. "Let me help you."

He felt relief spill through him as he sighed. "Thank you. What is it anyway?" he asked as she strode past him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"The tie."

"Damn it! It's too wild, right? Colors too bright?"

"Chuck, honey, it's just a bad tie."

"Fair enough."

She pushed into his bedroom and led him to the closet, stepping inside alone to rifle through his array of ties. "Take off the monstrosity and we'll fix this."

Chuckling, he untied the tie and pulled it off, tossing it to her so that she could catch it with that wry look on her face and hang it back up.

But before she could find him a better one, her body went tense, her hands froze on the hangers, and she dropped her arms to her sides, sagging a bit. She slowly turned around to face him and leaned back against the wall.

"Chuck, are you okay?"

He blinked, pushing off from the doorframe and unfolding his arms from where he'd crossed them at his chest. "What? Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

Ellie took a deep breath and shook her head a little. "No, I mean, with-with everything that's going on. This new job with the NSA, the training, Sarah being one of your trainers, and...well, everything with Sarah in general."

"Um, it's…" He swallowed hard. "Not...Not really. The NSA part is going as well as can be expected. It's a lot of hard work. It's grueling, the training. But it feels like I'm...finally doing something of value, Ellie. For others. But for myself too."

She nodded, a small smile on her face. "I'm glad. I didn't... _not_ think you were doing something of value before." Chuck sent his sister a flat look and she winced self-deprecatingly. "I know, I know. I gave you crap about needing to spread your wings before and I'm giving you crap now that you've spread them."

Chuck nodded significantly, widening his eyes, and she made a frustrated sound.

"You know where I stand," she said then, crossing her arms. She looked tired, drawn out. And he didn't think it was just from work. "I don't have to repeat any of that. But I need you to know that I see you. I see what you're doing, what you're striving for. I understand. And I'm trying to come to terms with it. I will. Eventually. As much as I'm worried something might happen to the only family I've got left." She gave him a significant look and he nodded, understanding. "But none of that changes how much I love you. And this?" She reached over and grabbed a silk, light blue tie. "This will never stop being a thing. I will always be here to help you not go outside looking like a doofus." She stepped up to him and slung the tie over his head, pulling it in tight around his neck to start tying it for him. They exchanged an amused look and he felt warmth in his chest. "I will always be here. For anything. Everything. Because you're my little brother. And I love the hell outta you."

"I love you back, El. You know that."

"I do. You just spent six months pulling yourself apart at the seams trying to protect me. I know you love me, whether I agree with your actions or not. I'll always try to hold you accountable when that's what I think you need, but I want you to know this one thing. I don't ever want you to forget it, okay?" He nodded, paying close attention as she finished tying his tie and fixing the collar. "You can rely on me for support. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I'm here for you. I was before too, as mad as I've been about this. Even if I disagree with the path you've taken, I know this means a lot to you, becoming a spy, a _good_ spy. So I'm gonna do whatever I can, whatever's within my power, to support you in this. Okay?"

He didn't respond. He couldn't. He was just so relieved that he dove in, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight.

She hugged back just as tightly. "And that goes for whatever is going on between you and Sarah right now."

Chuck let out a rough breath. "It's hard, and it's going to keep being hard, but I'm not—I'm not giving up."

She pulled out of the hug and poked him in the chest, a relieved and maybe even proud smile on her face. " _That's_ my brother. Don't give up hope on that woman. Because no matter what she says with her words, I don't think she's given up hope on you."

Chuck felt a slow, warm smile pull at the right side of his mouth, and then he moved to hug her again. "Are you saying that I can whine to you about my love life or lack thereof again, sis?"

"Lack thereof, my ass. Your love life might be a mess of your own making right now, but it _does_ exist." He chuckled at that. She pulled back again. "But yes. Chuck, yes. Of course. If you need to vent about Sarah, even if she is my friend, I am open to that arrangement. But you gotta be okay with a little blunt honesty, too."

"Ellie, come on. It wouldn't be you if it didn't come with a dash of blunt honesty. I can take it." He scoffed as he kissed her cheek and strode out of his bedroom. "Thanks for the tie!" he called over his shoulder.

"Hey!" He heard her following him down the hallway. "I don't know if you'll be back in time for dinner, but it's gonna be pot roast. If you're back from your mission or whatever you spies call it late, it'll be in the fridge."

"Sounds delicious." He squeezed her shoulder, saw a bit of worry in her face, and squeezed it again. "I'll see ya soon, Ellie. Trust me. I'm good at this."

"I believe it," she said sincerely. "Don't let anything happen to my friends, either!" She pointed at him in warning, turning on her heel and going to the kitchen.

As he stepped into the courtyard, shutting the door behind him, he paused, her words settling in his brain suddenly. Friends? Plural?

Oh God… Carina.

}o{

"Drive faster, Casey. What are you, a grandma?"

Sarah bit her cheek to keep from letting Carina see the threatening smirk. She could hear Casey's threatening snicker, that "I'm going to murder you later, just wait" snicker he was so good at.

Chuck snorted however, and she really needed to have a talk with him about not encouraging the DEA agent in her constant needling of people. Like a child, when she got a reaction, she continued doing the annoying thing. Or the destructive thing, as was often the case.

And, right on cue, Carina Miller leaned across the seat of the limo and set her hands to Chuck's tie, smoothing her fingers down the length of it while fixing a knot that hadn't needed fixing. Chuck smacked her hands away and gulped. "Stop it," he snapped.

"What? I'm just fixing your tie, Chuckles. So sue me for helping."

Sarah rolled her eyes. They all knew she wasn't just fixing his tie. She was playing her typical Carina games. "Look, we know where to find the case, so you need to make sure Stromberg and his goons stay in the main room with the rest of the party."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Blondie. Thanks." Carina sighed and glanced out the window. "I've already talked the guy into a state of supreme confidence that he has nothing to worry about. Regency Security is the best security firm there is, don't you know?" She smirked cockily. "He's lowered all of his defenses and is letting me pick up the slack."

"Congratulations, but we still need to get into the actual vault," Sarah said. "It's not exactly smooth sailing."

"Well, you two need to figure out some believable reason for leaving the room together so that you can find the vault and break into it in the first place."

"Easy. A perimeter check." Sarah shrugged.

"Together?" Carina asked. "Both of you leaving in the same direction?" She leaned in then, fixing them both with a perfect smirk. "How much easier would it be if you two set up the pretense that you wanna jump each other's bones?" She scoffed then. "Pretense…"

"Carina," Sarah warned through a clenched jaw.

"See, that's just stupid. What kind of a professional security firm hires people who'd sneak off to...I'm not even repeating what you said, I refuse." Chuck crossed his arms and shook his head. At least they were on the same page about something, she thought to herself sourly.

"It's not like I'm trying to get him to hire me again. Who cares? Two young kids like you sneaking off for some private time? It's perfect."

"It's straight out of a mid-90s spy romance," Sarah groused. "We're not doing it. We're checking the perimeter and that's final."

"You're no fun. It's a trope, yeah, but I'll have you know it works every single time," Carina said in a sing-songy voice, shaking her head with a "tsk tsk".

"We're here," Casey said from the driver's seat, pulling the limousine up to the roundabout and hurrying out from behind the wheel. Sarah watched as he buttoned his suit jacket, fixed his apparent earpiece, and came around to open the door for them. "Miss Appleton," he said, helping Carina out of the limo.

Sarah followed, and Chuck clambered out behind her, reaching up to take his sunglasses off and sticking them in the inside pocket of his own suit jacket.

Their identification was checked at the door.

"Mr. Stromberg would like to see you immediately, Miss Appleton," one of the men waiting in the foyer said.

"Of course. Take me to him. Everything is well in hand. I have my men stationed outside."

"Yes, ma'am." The tall, broad-shouldered man walked them back through the throngs of people until they stepped up to a sharply dressed fellow that looked like he was straight out of that Goodfellas movie Chuck had made her watch all those months ago.

Karl Stromberg turned and grinned at Carina, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips. "Miss Appleton, welcome to my humble abode. Again."

"Call me Ginger, Mr. Stromberg." She took her hand back and stepped to the side. "These are my associates here to assist in making sure this night goes according to plan. With us here, you have absolutely nothing to worry about."

Stromberg sent Chuck and Sarah a semi-polite, disinterested nod. "Good. I feel safer already. Thank you." He leaned in close then, a bit of a threat in his face suddenly. "Make sure I don't regret choosing Regency over the Newman boys. ...Ginger."

Carina took it in stride, confidence spilling through her. "Mr. Stromberg, we've been around for years now, and we've never had a complaint. You will not be our first."

Little did he know…

"You two, blend into the crowd, huh?" Carina said then, gesturing to them. "You know the drill. Nobody needs to know what we're here to do. Keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious." Carina gave Sarah a very pointed look when the two of them just stood there staring back at her.

Wanting to punch the freaking redhead for this, Sarah instead wrapped her hand around Chuck's bicep and gave him a wan smile. "Let's go."

She heard him sigh, before he draped his hand over hers on his arm and led her away. "Was this necessary?" he asked out of the side of his mouth.

"To Carina? Yes. She gets bored easily and needs to find ways to amuse herself."

"She ever try card tricks?"

Sarah couldn't help but choke back a snicker at that. "Just...deal with it. We're fine. We're both professionals, right?"

She could feel his hesitancy and she wondered if he believed her.

"When is he gonna do this whole toast thing we're apparently supposed to be waiting for?" Chuck finally asked, snagging a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray.

She reached over to grab it out of his hand and took a long sip of it. She needed it, damn it. She ignored his offended look he shot in her direction. "You realize she just took away my perimeter idea, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Checking the perimeter, Chuck. She's just ordered us to blend in as if we're guests. That's our job now. We're supposed to be clandestine Regency agents. We can't just announce we're checking the perimeter and walk out there." She huffed. "I swear to God, she's only this quick thinking on her feet when it comes to evil. If she's ever just...doing her fucking job, she's a God damn sloth."

Chuck hummed. "Is this the part where I say I'm glad she's on our side?"

She scoffed back at him. "Is she on our side, though?" she groused.

He had that quietude about him then that made her nervous, like he was about to launch into something she really didn't want him to launch into. "Okay, listen. Sarah. It's just us and we have to wait for this toast while we awkwardly stroll around this party. And I would like to try and explain what I did, so you understand. I know you don't agree with it, but there's something you need to know..."

"Chuck, now isn't the time. Actually, this is literally the worst possible time," she said, cutting him off quickly.

"No, I know. I know. I just…"

"If you know, why are we still doing this?" She turned around to face him and moved onto her tiptoes, glancing over his shoulder. She spotted the master bedroom where the vault was. "Master bedroom access point is at your six o'clock. All we need now is for him to start his toast."

Chuck turned to look over his shoulder, pretending to stretch. Nobody had taught him that...because neither her nor Casey would ever teach him that. "Okay. Okay, okay. Got it. Good. Yeah. Sarah, I miss you."

Her stomach dropped to her feet. "Chuck…"

"I miss this. Just...us...hangin' out. No crap hovering over us, no dark cloud. I'm sorry. I don't know how many times I hafta say it, but I'll say it as many times as it takes, okay? I just want us to be okay again, and if-if that means we're just buddies, pals, hangin' out, that's okay. I'm okay with that. I just miss you a lot, and I need to say that. I need you to know that."

She turned her head away from him, swallowing the lump in her throat and watching as Carina nodded her head, eyes wide. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It fucking sucked. But she put a hand on Chuck's chest and let out a breathy giggle, biting her lip.

Chuck gave her the most incredibly confused look.

"The cover, Chuck," she explained through her teeth. "I'm going to kill Carina."

His brow furrowed and he nodded a little, moving in close. His hand landed on her arm and she forced a smile on her face, ducking her head a bit shyly. "I'm going to help," he said. But then he kept going. "What do you think, Sarah? Can we at least...talk? Can I just explain? And then maybe things can get-get back to normal."

"Chuck, can we please focus on the mission? Please," she begged. She couldn't do this right now. She giggled again and nibbled on her lip, peering up at him in blatant invitation.

"This sucks," he breathed.

"Making things suck for everyone around her is Carina's bread and butter," she replied.

"Everyone? I'd like to make a toast please!"

That was their cue. She pulled back from Chuck a little and cleared her throat, straightening her dress a bit, and as people slowly started moving towards the stairs, she grabbed Chuck's hand and started maneuvering them both through the room in the opposite direction.

She raised her eyebrows at him and he gave her a dreamy grin, before they both quickly ducked into the room and made their way around the back way through the house to the stairs that would lead up to Stromberg's bedroom.

Sarah let go of Chuck's hand. "En route to the bedroom now," she said into her watch for Casey and Carina to hear. "All clear."

"Yeah, they're all out here for the toast. Regency's got the place guarded, after all," came the quiet, cocky voice of the DEA agent taking point on the mission.

"Sarah, I know this isn't a good time still. You've made that clear, but please, at least let me explain," Chuck tried again. And she was about a half second away from spinning around and strangling him in frustration.

"No time," she said over her shoulder. "The mission, Chuck." They finally got to the door of the master bedroom and they stepped inside, Chuck shutting the door behind them.

"This is my cue now, huh?" he asked, going into his pocket and taking his phone out. Sarah stood off to the side and watched as he took a cord out as well and fitted it securely into the panel that kept the heavy door shut and locked securely. "Ha haaaa it fits."

"Was there a chance of it not fitting?" she asked in a hushed voice, sending him a wide-eyed look.

"Ummm...do you wanna know? Really?"

On second thought… "Uh, no."

"Yeeah, that's probably for the best." He winced and went back to his phone. She had no idea what he was doing, if he'd flashed on the schematics of the system, or if this was really him about to unlock this heavily secured door so that they could head into the vault and get the briefcase.

But then his fingers paused and he slowly lifted his brown eyes to fasten on hers. "My-My brain is...I mean, it is really hard for me to do this right now knowing that you're probably still mad at me, Sarah."

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "Clear your mind, Chuck. Don't get caught up in anything else. Just focus on unlocking the door, okay? You can do this." She put a tentative hand on his arm.

"I know. I know, I know. Just...maybe if we sit down and just talk, maybe if you let me just tell you where my head was at, why I chose this path instead of the one...the one I said I wanted to be on these last months."

"Okay, Chuck, look…" She full-on grabbed his arm and turned him a little so she could force him to meet her eyes. "We'll talk, okay? We can talk. You can tell me. We just don't have time for it right now. But I promise we will. _After this._ " He didn't say anything, but his eyes softened a bit, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Okay?" she prompted.

"Yeah." He licked his lips, determination in his face, thank God. "Yeah. Okay. Sorry. I'm...on it."

Chuck went back to his phone, and she heard something in the panel beep, the numbers on the pad lighting up, and then UNLOCKED flashed on the screen above the number pad. She heard the lock in the door disengage and it shifted, opening for them.

"Oh my God," she breathed. She looked at her watch. They'd maybe only been standing there for thirty to thirty five seconds. "Was...that a flash?"

"No," he said, grabbing the door and pulling it open, and all she could do was gape at him. What the hell? He'd done that without the Intersect, with some weirdly shaped smartphone he'd taken from Castle for this purpose. How did he know how to even do that? It would've been insanely impressive if trained, seasoned agents had done what he'd just done.

But then she had to shake herself, stepping up beside him to peer into the room. He shifted to step into the room and she flattened her hand on his chest with a thump, holding him back. "Wait."

Damn it, she was breathless. That had just been so overwhelmingly impressive—something she'd never seen any other agent do before, especially not so effortlessly. And he'd just acted like it was no big deal. She'd read the briefing. The security on the door was top level, government-status. She'd been prepared for a flash and then a few minutes of him toiling at it.

"What?" he asked, furrowing his brow at her as if he hadn't just done that.

"We don't know if there's some extra line of defense in here."

"Oh...Oh! Oooo!" Excitement lit up his face. "You mean like invisible lasers or motion detectors or something? Cooooooool—er, I mean, it—uh—oh no," he finished meekly. It just underscored the fears she'd been drowning in since he told her he was joining the NSA. Everything was COOL, like in the movies he grew up watching.

"Just… Look at the way the briefcase is sitting in the middle of the room like that, on that podium. There's no way they set it up like this without something…" She shook her head, grabbing her small purse and rifling through it.

"Yeah, it's definitely the lasers. We need the cool Chinese acrobat from Ocean's Eleven."

Sarah ignored him, finally finding what she needed and pulling it out. "Ah…" She bit her bottom lip and held it between her teeth as she took the cap off and shook it a little.

"Perfume?" he asked, confused.

"Nope!" She then sprayed an even mist in front of them into the safe room, and what she thought they might be dealing with revealed itself. Thin, dim red lines stretched across the room, at the height of midway down her thigh.

"You were right. Holy crap. I could'a walked right into those and lost, like, the entire bottom half of my leg. Like walking into a lightsaber."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "They aren't going to hurt you. It's a security measure. You walk into it and it sets off an alarm." He blinked and she shook her head. "Look, I'm shorter than you. These aren't moving at least, so I can just crawl under them, get the briefcase, and bring it back here."

But before she could step out of her heels, he took her wrist. "No. No, I'll do it. You're wearing a dress." She gave him a look. "Not-Not that you couldn't do it in a dress. I know you could. But it'd look pretty suspicious if your nice dress was all rumpled and dusty."

Considering what they'd apparently been sneaking off to do, according to the rest of the guests, she didn't see how it wouldn't just help with the cover story. But she just pulled her wrist out of his grasp and nodded. "Fine. But be careful. Stay as close to the ground as possible, and be extra careful when you get to the podium."

"Right. Got it. Right." He disconnected the phone that was still attached to the panel, pocketed it, and wiped his hands on his pants. "Wish me luck," he breathed.

She didn't say anything at all, just watching as he crawled down onto his knees and flattened himself on his stomach, starting to military style crawl along under the lasers like they were barbed wire on a boot camp training course. It was something she'd done many times at the Farm.

Chuck wasn't going to the Farm. He wouldn't get anything close to it. She didn't know if it was better or worse that way. There were things she'd learned there that she didn't want him learning, lessons she'd like to keep him away from. But then how would he last out in the field with just an NSA agent and a CIA agent training him? She'd only trained one or two newbies before, but it had been too much exposure for her and Graham had pulled her as an instructor, instead keeping her just as a weapon he kept in the shadows.

Could she teach Chuck enough to keep him alive if he was ever on a mission without her? She didn't know. And that was terrifying.

"This looks a lot easier in Private Benjamin," he grunted, still crawling. His ass was sticking up a bit too much for her liking as he scooted along and she needed to figure out a way to tell him that without it sounding like she was paying that much attention to it.

But if any part of him touched those lasers, they were royally fucked. And so were Casey and Carina.

Before she had to say anything, thankfully, he must have felt it himself and he lowered his bottom half closer to the floor, still scooting along until he finally reached the briefcase, saving her from the conundrum altogether. He grabbed onto the podium and slowly eased himself up so that he could snag the briefcase. For a split second, she feared moving the briefcase might set off an alarm. But it didn't.

And instead he eased himself back to the floor and began scooting back to her.

"Just slide the briefcase to me," she said. "It'll be easier for you to crawl without it."

"Oh. Duh."

She stopped the briefcase with her foot as he slid it across, crawling towards her a lot faster than he had on the way to the podium.

When he got to her, he climbed to his feet, sweeping the briefcase up off of the floor in his hand, relief on his face. "Good," he breathed. "Now that that's over with, I can tell you about—"

But as he spoke, his arm swung back a bit, the very tip of the corner of the briefcase hitting the nearest laser. She gasped and staggered back as an alarm sounded and the door slid shut, locking Chuck inside.

}o{

"Sarah, I don't like small spaces!"

His voice was muffled through the thick metal door. She hit it with her hand a few times, as if that would do anything, and then she quickly screwed her head on properly again and moved to the pad beside the door. She hit the open key over and over and over, then hit enter. "Just keep breathing!" she yelled back to him. "You're gonna be fine, okay?"

She glanced around the room, looking to see if there was anything she could do to maybe force the door open again. He'd taken away the phone and wire, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to hack this door open again even if she had those at her disposal.

There was a distant hissing sound and she froze.

"Gas!" he yelped then from inside the vault. "Gas, gas, gas! Sarah, there's gas in here now! Sarah!"

Shit. She had no idea what sort of gas was flooding the vault, but knowing Karl Stromberg, it was liable to be something really horrible, something no living creature should be breathing.

"I'll be taking exclusively short breaths from now on!" Chuck's panicked voice yelled through the door. Maybe he could start by not talking?

Gas… Gas was flooding the vault. If she could stop the gas, then she could work on the door maybe. Gas came through some sort of ventilation system, usually, and...There. She looked up and spotted a vent. Bracing her foot on the door handle, she lifted herself up to push the vent grating out of the way and bodily lifted herself into the vent.

"Sarah! Sarah, I don't want to die in here without having told you everything I need to tell you!"

 _Not right now, Chuck._ "Hold on, Chuck! I'm gonna get you out of there!"

He kept talking but she couldn't hear, not once she got all the way into the duct. Scooting herself along, she could faintly smell whatever it was that was flooding the vault Chuck was currently trapped inside of. And she did her best to hold her breath. Thankfully, she spotted a large canister with "CAUTION" stickers all over it, attached to small pipes leading down out of the duct, not ten feet away. Hurrying, she scooted all the way to the canister and found a gauge with a valve attached to it. Once she got close enough, she propped herself on her elbow and used every ounce of her strength to try to shut it off. She grunted in annoyance when it didn't budge. Then took a deep breath and grabbed it again, bracing her knees a bit to put more of her strength into it.

Chuck's voice was still drifted up through the vents, but she couldn't hear the actual words, just muffled sounds. And as frustrating as it was that he was wasting precious oxygen to talk when she wasn't even there to hear him, at least she knew he was still conscious down there.

It finally shifted just a little, and when she let out a grunt and squeezed, putting her shoulders into it, she began to turn it, and she kept turning until the hissing sound stopped and it wouldn't turn anymore.

Rushing back towards the vent where she'd crawled in, she was forced to stop when she looked down into the room and saw that two of Stromberg's security stood in the room outside of the door. They were looking at each other and at the door with perplexed looks on their faces. And she figured out why… Chuck was still blabbing in there. About what, she didn't really know.

She needed a distraction so that they didn't see her coming, so she went in her purse and grabbed her lipstick. She took a calming breath, and then let go of it, watching it clatter to the ground at their feet between them.

The moment they both looked down at it in confusion, she swung herself out of the vent and slammed the closest one in the temple with her heel. He was unconscious before he even hit the ground. And as she landed cleanly, the other spun to bring a fist up, but she cracked him in the face with her elbow and send him to the ground. When he tried to scramble back up to his feet, she grabbed the door and she bashed him right in the face with it. They both were splayed out on the floor, down for the count, and she nudged one with her foot just to make sure.

Spinning towards the pad again, she saw that one of them had unlocked the door. The screen flashed "Press Enter"... Smirking at how well that had worked out, she hurried to the door and pressed enter.

The door slid open and she saw Chuck standing there, gas swirling around him but slowly dissipating. "Sarah…" he gasped. Before she could ask if he was all right, he swayed a bit on his feet. And then…

"I love you."

He slumped forward, like a fallen tree, crashing into her. She braced herself and caught him, doing her best not to stagger under his weight. But it was more than just his weight that was causing her knees to buckle.


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N:** Pay close attention to this one.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from this story.

* * *

They'd managed to leave the party without Stromberg or any of his men seeing them, the briefcase they came for in hand.

Chuck was unresponsive in the car, even as Sarah continued to check that he was breathing every few seconds on the way back to Castle, but Carina's experience as a DEA agent came in handy once they got him onto a cot. She pegged the gas as a strain of nitrous oxide, the same sort of strain that dentists used to perform oral surgery.

And as he slept it off in the other room, specifically in a spot where she could still keep her eye on him, Casey brought General Beckman in through video conference.

"General," he muttered with a serious nod.

"Agents." She glanced around, almost as if taking a head count. "Where's Bartowski?"

"He took the brunt of the security measures in the vault while he was stealing the briefcase, General, but the little tike's gonna be just fine. Nitrous oxide. He just needs to sleep it off." Carina shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

General Beckman sighed tiredly. "You have it then?" They all nodded and she nodded back. "Good job recovering the briefcase."

"What is in this thing, General? It's got an impenetrable lock on it and some other security measures on the case nothin' in Castle will work against," Casey said, having examined the case. Sarah turned to glance at it as well. The security measures he talked about were like something out of a nineteen-sixties spy movie Chuck might have a poster of hanging in his room.

"That information is above your pay grade, Agent Casey." He looked a bit glum about that, but the general ignored it if she even noticed it. "Agent Miller will return it to Langley on her way out to her next assignment. We'll have to figure out how to get the damn thing open without the key. A damned nuisance."

She figured that was clear enough apparently because she leaned back and ended the conference altogether, disappearing from the screen. Sarah turned to look at Carina as she walked up to the case and snapped it shut.

The redhead just shrugged and chirped, "They wouldn't tell me, either. I think it's because they don't know, either, and it pisses them off."

Sarah turned back and glanced over at Chuck. He was still out, having not even budged since they set him there for Carina to do some rudimentary tests.

"Hey, Walker." Sarah glanced over her shoulder back at the DEA agent. "I'm leaving tonight for Saint-Tropez. ...Did you think about my offer?" Sarah wondered if Carina might already know the answer what with the teasing look on her face.

"I'm, uh...still considering it." She grinned. She wasn't still considering it and they both knew it.

Carina walked out with a smirk and the suitcase in hand, leaving Sarah alone with...Oh. Casey had apparently also stomped off in a huff. Not knowing what was in that case seemed to be really niggling with him. His pride, most likely. Hearing "that's above your pay grade" probably put him in a mood.

Her smirk died as she glanced over at Chuck again. She wasn't going to Saint-Tropez. She wasn't going anywhere. But this wasn't working. Chuck could've easily just ruined their entire mission with his inability to focus on anything but the problems between the two of them. Worse than that, the gas Stromberg installed in that vault as a security measure could've been worse than just nitrous oxide. He could have died.

She needed to figure out how to proceed with the absolute cluster fuck of emotions hovering around them. Part of her knew that just cutting ties with this whole thing and pulling out might do it. But that wasn't an option. It wouldn't solve things for Chuck, even if it did solve things for her, and that alone was enough for her to stay and figure out how to make this arrangement functional.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up from her chair and called Beckman back. The woman popped back up on her screen, in the middle of writing something, her glasses on, apparently caught by surprise. She looked up and blinked, taking her glasses off.

"Agent Walker…?"

"General Beckman, there is a problem with Agent Carmichael." Saying agent right before Chuck's new identity was making her feel...less than great.

"I was assured he could just sleep the effects of the gas off, Agent."

Sarah shook her head. "No, he's fine. Physically." She paused as the general narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, then put her pen down and took her glasses off, folding her hands together on her desk and leaning in.

"Physically…?"

"General, my role on this team since it was established has been to keep Chuck's emotional and mental state in check so that the Intersect could be used to its fullest potential. On top of ensuring his physical safety." The general nodded. "I've determined that I'm actually...a large part of the problem, especially now that he's opted to join the NSA as an agent."

Beckman just watched her quietly for a moment. "Agent Walker, are you telling me you think you aren't the right agent to be on this team?"

She could hear in Beckman's tone of voice that she was ready to shoot Sarah down if she tried to back out now. The general had given her a way out, she'd opened that door for her, and Sarah hadn't just not walked through it, she'd resoundingly shut it. There was no way Beckman would let her go back on it, even if Sarah wanted to.

"No," Sarah said, shaking her head. "No, it's not that. Maybe there is another agent out there who would have an easier time working with him at this point. No maybe. Any agent would have an easier time…" She had the image of Chuck standing there lodged in her head, his eyelids fluttering, and the sound of his voice when he'd said those three words before losing consciousness. It made an ache go through her, the most painful kind of ache. A lingering ache. She crossed her arms at her chest, leaving them there almost like an armor, and she swallowed. "But I can't go anywhere. I won't. Nobody can do this job better than I can. But this is also…"

"A distraction," Beckman said. She sighed and nodded. "Yes, it is." Rubbing a hand down her face, she shook her head. The older woman looked annoyed and fatigued, as if she really didn't want to be dealing with this right now. Well, neither did Sarah, but here they both were. "If you don't want to be reassigned, Agent Walker...Sarah...what do you want?"

Sarah just glanced away for a moment, thoughtfully. "General, there needs to be...a solution. Because I can't keep operating in this capacity and be successful at my job. It'll only last for so long before something goes wrong. It's…"

"It's a mess. I know. That's why he's laid out unconscious right now, isn't it?"

She just nodded. "There's been a build-up and...now that the situation has changed, with Chuck training to be an agent…"

"Is he becoming a problem, Agent Walker? Do I need to talk to him?"

This was starting to sound a bit too high school for Sarah suddenly. "No." God no. "No, I can figure this out, but I just need...a path. A path that isn't...littered with...mess."

"It's Chuck. Every path he's on is littered with mess, Sarah."

Sarah widened her eyes and tilted her head a bit. General Beckman had a point with that. But her easy candidness there was surprising.

"What, this isn't what you thought you would have to do when you joined the CIA?" the general asked, raising an eyebrow. Sarah couldn't help the flat look she sent the older woman. Beckman just shrugged, a hint of amusement on her face. It was gone just as quickly. "Sarah, none of us knew what we were getting ourselves into with him. But we know now. It's why I gave him this opportunity...I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have complete faith in this team."

"You made the decision before you knew that we...that there were complications between Chuck and I." She supposed that was what she was going to call it: _complications_.

Beckman raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I knew, Agent Walker." There was no small amount of dryness in the general's tone. Well. Shit. Sarah ducked her head, trying to take a moment to compose herself again. "But you have a reputation of being able to get the job done no matter what adversity is put in your way. I would say this qualifies as adversity, wouldn't you?" Sarah just swallowed. "Do what you do best, Agent. Lead by example. The more you do your job, the more he'll look to emulate you. That's called leading by example."

While Sarah didn't quite appreciate being patronized by the general, she thought she really understood that this was how the other woman communicated. She supposed the other option could've been that Beckman just said "Deal with it, Agent Walker" and signed off, then blocked her from calling back. And she hadn't.

"I've never had to compartmentalize like this, General." She squirmed a bit, very uncomfortable. "What if I'm out of my depth?"

"You're Agent Sarah Walker. You're _never_ out of your depth." General Beckman leaned in even closer to the camera. "This is just another situation you are going to have to figure out, something you've never dealt with before. You've done that countless times before this."

"Nothing like this, General," she argued. "I've never had something keeping me from being able to do my job to my fullest potential, no matter what the mission was, whether it was a task I'd never done before or not. None of the adversity I've faced has...looked like this." Nothing had _felt_ like this.

The general pressed her hands together in front of her face and nodded, almost as if to herself. Then she looked up at Sarah. "You aren't the first, Sarah. Nor will you be the last most likely. This team _has_ to work, especially in this new set-up with Chuck being trained as an NSA agent. The entire Intersect Project relies on this team finding a way to work. You just have to find a way, Sarah. Just…" She sighed. "...Just like I once did."

Sarah boggled at the other woman. She couldn't help it. "I'm...sorry?"

"I have a feeling this is what you need to hear, so as long as we're agreed you never let this see the light of day." Sarah blinked and nodded a little. "I was in a...situation myself. Once. A...long time ago. Obviously not the same situation." She shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable, and she cleared her throat, sitting up a bit straighter. "If you want a way to move forward while working with someone who is...difficult to work with...for whatever reason...you have a few options." Sarah just stared, listening, the general having her full attention. "You either need to compartmentalize, something you've been doing since all of this began—Don't even try, Agent."

How she'd known Sarah was going to try to deny it, she wasn't sure, but sometimes General Diane Beckman had a knack at making the younger woman scared. Legitimately.

"Or you need to deal with it. Talk to him, set some boundaries and just...fix it." Beckman pressed her lips together pragmatically and looked through her eyelashes at Sarah. "Whatever it is you decide to do, I don't want it to negatively affect missions anymore, Agent Walker. I kept it from controlling my ability to do my job. Do I sometimes think maybe I should've handled it differently? Fixed things instead of...what I ended up doing? Yes. Sometimes. But...I'm here now." She tapped her sleeve at her shoulder where the impressive accomplishments of her career were, her bars.

Sarah nodded.

"I'm sorry, Agent Walker. But you and Bartowski have to figure this out yourselves. However that may be. You want to stay on this assignment, so figure out how to do that and not let it compromise the operation."

The entire assignment was already compromised. That was the problem. But Sarah just nodded again. "Yes, General. Understood."

"Good. I'll be in touch." The general was gone just as fast, and Sarah wondered if the other woman was running away from the continuation of this conversation after she revealed maybe too much. Was she feeling as raw from the conversation as Sarah was?

What was more, Sarah hadn't really gotten any answers. The only thing that changed was that she knew just how bad she'd been this whole time at pretending these feelings she'd developed for Chuck weren't there. Beckman had read her from the beginning. She felt like a terrible spy.

But it didn't matter, because what Beckman said was right. She needed to figure out how to make this work. How did she make this work with Chuck in particular? Because she'd been on some genuinely bad teams, teams that had crumbled, teams that hadn't worked, teams that ended up failing horribly. She'd managed to survive and move forward, she'd completed her assignments. None of those teams had anyone like Chuck on them. He was different, a lot harder to deal with. Specifically for her. It wasn't his fault. He was coming into all of this in a way that she was sure no agent ever had before him. He was who he was. And she was the way she was, with the feelings she had.

She just had to find a way to move forward with things being...what they were. At least no one else had heard what Chuck said before he'd passed out from nitrous oxide inhalation. There was a chance he wouldn't even remember.

But whether he remembered or not, she definitely would. Could she compartmentalize enough to be on this team, protect him, and keep them from letting this tension between them ruin a mission or get one of them killed?

Could he? No. He couldn't. She already knew the answer to that. She wasn't angry with him for that. It wasn't who he was.

Yet.

And that was the thing that scared her the most. The longer they kept at this, the more Chuck went into the field and saw the things she'd seen, had to do the things she'd had to do, the easier it would get for him to compartmentalize and "deal with it" the way Beckman apparently had in her own situation that Sarah couldn't help being incredibly curious about.

Sarah wouldn't have to worry about dealing with all of the most frustrating things about Chuck Bartowski—his inability to stay in the car, his knack for caring more about everyone else's safety more than his own, the way he'd had a full-on panic attack on the ride home the first time people had shot guns around him, and the way he lost focus on missions trying to get her to talk to him, trying to explain himself. Those were all things that would get him killed out in the field as an agent, but they were all things that made him...who he was.

The thought of that being beaten out of him by this job made her feel sick.

She turned to glance over at him again and saw he was staring at her, fully awake. He turned his head away in a flash, pretending to still be sleeping. And she wondered just how long he'd been awake.

She went over to the mini fridge on the other side of the room and opened it, grabbing an icy cold bottle of water, before walking it over to where he still rested...as if she hadn't seen him fully awake for that split second. "Here," she said, thrusting the bottle out over him. The condensation dripped off of the bottle onto his face, which wasn't really her intention, but she guessed she'd take it.

He blinked his eyes open and looked like he might try to play off that he hadn't been awake before, but then he sighed and nodded, slowly pushing himself to sit up. The way he swayed a bit definitely wasn't a ruse, however, and she put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Uh. Thanks." He looked embarrassed as she nodded, and then he reached up to take the water, unscrewing the cap and guzzling about half of it down. He just sat there, staring at his lap. "The...briefcase?"

"We got it."

"Everybody's okay? Casey? Carina?"

Her throat was dry. Before he even addressed what happened in the vault, the three words he said to her when she finally got the door opened, he asked about the wellfare of the rest of his team. He had the makings of a good spy. And it hurt her thinking about what that could mean, what he could potentially become:

Casey.

Her.

She nodded. "Everyone's fine. Carina will be taking the briefcase to Langley on her way to her next assignment. And Casey...stomped out of here because Beckman told him knowing more about what's in the briefcase is above his pay grade."

Chuck snorted quietly and it made her feel a bit of warmth in her chest. It was almost like one of their moments back before this mess, before he'd made this decision to throw everything that made him great in a God damn dumpster.

"You're okay?" she asked.

He gave her a long, searching look. And for a moment, she thought he would say it again. Reiterate those words. _I love you_ …

But then he nodded, a weak but kind smile on his face. "Yeah. Little woozy but I'm—I've got this. So thanks." He lifted the water in a cheers motion.

"Good."

"I'm not-I'm not there yet, am I?" She froze, her eyes slowly lifting to his. But he was looking down at the floor, having shifted his legs to the side so he could sit up straight and put his feet down. "As a spy, I mean. I'm not gonna be good at this until I can figure out how to...suppress my emotions and feelings. I couldn't just focus on the mission, and it could've ruined the whole thing. For all of us."

"You got the briefcase, Chuck." She didn't know what else to really say. "It was your brain, your skills that got that door open."

"And my idiocy and lack of focus that got it shut again, getting me trapped in there, nearly gassed to death." He finally looked up at her. "I've made a big mess of things, haven't I? There's no turning back. I can't clean this up..."

"I don't know what to say, Chuck. You made a choice. And I'm here to walk you through it...but I don't know that I can give you anything else. I don't like this. I don't want it for you. Not because I don't think you can, but…" Her voice cut out and she let out a huff. Those three words he'd said were stuck between her ribs and she couldn't shake them loose.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"I know." _Me too._ She was much sorrier than he could even begin to understand. This had all been her doing.

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she turned on her heel and left him there, not seeing the way he furrowed his brow at her, not knowing just how long he'd been listening to her conversation with Beckman, a seed of steady determination having been planted in his heart.

}o{

Sarah spent a ridiculous amount of time the next morning combing through the footage of Morgan's party in Chuck and Ellie's courtyard from the night before, wondering how in the hell Jeff and Lester had stayed alive this long. If she had a dollar for every bottle of beer Jeff finished, she'd be a millionaire, and Lester had gotten slapped at least six times, by women, and by one man, which...she didn't even want to hear the audio on that one.

And then there was Chuck. He'd eventually ambled in, patting his friends on the back, still not looking like his full self as he sipped his beer, usually ending up sitting on the fountain and just staring off in the distance, or sometimes standing in a group and smiling but not saying anything, until eventually, he'd disappeared, showing up in his bedroom again and playing video games for a while before going to sleep again.

She probably should've made an appearance at the party for the cover, but she hadn't felt like she was fit to go through the motions of a real relationship in front of Chuck's friends last night. He'd probably figured out some excuse to tell them for why she couldn't make it.

Sarah was in this for the long haul, and maybe part of her strategy for moving forward in this assignment, keeping her head in the game, was taking a step back and away here and there to regroup like she'd done last night after she left Chuck alone sitting on that cot in Castle. Maybe a bit of space every once in a while would help her prioritize, see the assignment and the mission clearly, focus. And, like Beckman said, she could lead by example. Chuck might...fall into place.

Shit, she didn't want him to. She wanted him to stay like this. She wanted to protect the guy who let his brain overthink things to the point that he spiraled, saying a whole lot of things that he probably shouldn't say, only stopping when she put a hand on his arm or shoulder. She wanted to protect the guy who'd woken up from being knocked unconscious by nitrous oxide in Castle hours later asking if everyone else was okay. And she wanted to protect the guy who'd had an opportunity to reiterate the words he'd said to her when she opened the door and he fell into her arms...but didn't take it, instead putting her comfort before his own needs. She knew he remembered. She could feel it in him, see it in his face. And he didn't bring it up.

She was still staring at the screen when she heard heels clicking against the floor behind her. Nobody else could get down here who wore heels except for her...and Carina.

Smirking, she turned to see the DEA agent walking down the Castle hallway and slowing once she walked through the door into the room.

"I'm guessing it's a no on Saint-Tropez then, huh? Not gonna miss those beaches?"

She let out a quiet chuckle. "Oh, I'll miss 'em. Incredibly. But I, um, I need to be here. I need to see this through."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're capable of giving yourself a break, Blondie. Or if you thrive off of suffering, you masochist…"

Sarah gave her pseudo-friend a look, trying to figure her out. "Don't we all thrive off of suffering? Or we wouldn't be in the business of spying."

"Speak for yourself. I'm good where I am." Carina closed the distance a bit and leaned her hip against the desk. "Not sure I can say the same for you."

The CIA agent could see that the redhead wasn't trying to be mean, she wasn't trying to piss her off. She really meant what she'd just said, and that helped her from getting miffed about it. Instead she just shrugged, looking down at her keyboard. "I'm fine here. I have my work."

"And a guy who's driving you crazy." Sarah blanched but tried not to let Carina see it. But then Carina set a USB down on the desk in front of her. She blinked and looked up at the DEA agent. "It's a little gift from me to you. Take a look at it when you've got some time, huh?"

Then she leaned in and gave Sarah a side hug, kissing the top of her head. "Take care of yourself, Sarah. Seriously."

"You too, Carina." Sarah hugged back, holding on for maybe a little longer than was necessary. And as Carina walked away, that usual swagger in the sway of her hips, Sarah felt an ache in her chest. There went the only normalcy she really knew at this point—a chaotic DEA agent she could always count on to make things dicey. But that was Carina through and through. She'd always be that way. She _always_ _was_ that way. It hadn't been Sarah's doing.

Shaking her head, she turned to look down at the USB. She didn't know what might be on a USB Carina gave her as a gift, but she prepared herself just in case it was something really weird and raunchy she didn't want on one of her Castle computers. Carina _would_ pull that shit.

Sarah popped it in and played the video file.

Oh.

She almost hit stop, but her fingers were frozen. Every part of her was frozen. It was the footage from inside of the vault. She knew immediately she was about to hear everything Chuck had been saying, his muffled voice drifting up into her vent. She hadn't been able to make out the words then, she'd been too busy trying to save his life to care… She could hear them now.

And damn her for not just turning it off.

"Sarah! Sarah, I don't want to die in here without having told you everything I need to tell you!" he said, panicked. And then he leaned into the door, his face almost right up against it. "I'm not-I'm not a good spy. I'm a terrible spy. At best, I'm not a normal spy. I'm not a by-the-book kinda guy and I don't know...I don't know if I'm even capable of that. I'm—I'm a regular guy who works at a Buy More. And the decision I made to join the NSA, the fact that I kept it from you for so long—for _too_ long—I know what it must look like to you. That I did a complete one-eighty on everything I'd said before about wanting my life back, that I didn't trust you enough to share my decision with you when I was...still trying to make it. But that isn't it. That isn't it, Sarah. I trust you more than I trust anyone, more than I trust myself even. That was why I kept it a secret, that was why I decided without talking to you about it. I trust you to tell me the way things are, the truth. You're always real with me when it matters the most, and with the way I feel about you, I was just so scared that you'd tell me not to because...because you thought I couldn't. Telling the person you admire more than anybody else in the whole world and then-then hearing them confirm you're not good enough to do the thing you wanna do. I know I'm not like Bryce, or Casey, or you. And I'm afraid that no matter how hard I try, I'm never gonna add up, and that's why I just kept putting off...telling you. But I have to try."

He took a deep breath, the look on his face made her wonder if he was already getting lightheaded, the way he braced his hand on the door. His words sped up then, as though he was in a race against time. "Look, Sarah, I know...I know that you think I should've taken the path that will maybe give me back that regular life I seemed to want so badly. And you're probably hurt that I did exactly the opposite of that, telling everyone but you. I did that, and I'm... I'm sorry. I don't know what could've been possible if I had made that choice. I don't know if I would've been able to see you again. But I-I knew how I could do two things at once, you know? I could-I could help people with what I have in my head. And you-you have to know that you were everything that I ever wanted, and then some. This is it. My chance to be better than just a Nerd Herd supervisor. My chance to prove myself...to you." She took a deep breath, swiping at her eyes, trying to focus on the screen through her tears. "And you're the one that taught me that... that being a spy is about choosing something bigger. It's... it's about putting aside your own safety for the greater good, and that's what I choose. I choose the greater good, Sarah, and I choose you. I-I chose to be a spy for my friends and my family...and you. I chose to be a spy because…" The door finally slid open and he swayed. "Sarah, I love you."

The feed cut, leaving the screen blank, and she just stared at the spot where he'd been. She didn't bother trying to hold back the tears that flooded her eyes and finally spilled down her cheeks. She'd been right wondering if she was the reason for him making the decision. She was the cause of all of this. And she was heartbroken.

}o{

The light knock on his window startled him. He was at that point of exhaustion where he was so tired he couldn't sleep. Instead, he was stuck in that drowsy, mind going a mile a minute state where your eyes just hurt a lot but your body and brain refused to relent.

Pushing himself up to his elbows, he rolled off of his bed to his feet and shuffled over to the window, rubbing his aching eyes, rolling his head back and forth on his shoulders, and groaning. If it was Casey with a mission, he'd put his head through a wall. He couldn't stand another mission right now.

And a voice in his head reminded him that he'd been the one to agree to all of this. He'd made the choice to become a full-blown NSA agent. Nobody else. And this was the job, wasn't it? Pushing past aches, pain, exhaustion. Casey and Sarah did it all the time.

But when he pulled the edge of the curtain aside to peer into the courtyard, he saw that it wasn't Casey after all. Sarah stood there, nibbling on her lower lip, her face in profile as she stared at the entrance to the courtyard.

Chuck tucked the curtains back away from the window and she spun back to face him, a mask immediately slipping over her features, as it typically did. He furrowed his brow in curiosity and she pointed at the window, mouthing "Can I come in?"

Nodding, he quickly pulled the window open and stretched out a hand for her as she knelt down and swung one of her long legs over the windowsill and inside of his room. She folded her cold hand into his warm one and let him help her inside. She straightened to her full height again once she got in, and turned to shut the window quietly.

Chuck just waited for a few moments, figuring she'd tell him why she was here eventually. But she didn't, just standing there with her back to him and her arms folded instead.

"Do...we have a mission?" he finally asked.

She shook her head and finally turned to face him, pushing some of her hair back from her face. Something was different. The usual steadiness of Agent Sarah Walker was absent from the woman standing before him. She looked uncomfortable, fidgety almost. Almost as if she felt like a foreigner in her own skin. He knew the feeling. It just seemed a little out of character for her. He supposed that was the point, though.

"No. No mission," she said, shrugging. "I—" She huffed. "That gas in the vault… You were exposed to so much of it, and with the way you were out for such a long time, the after-effects and everything, I just wanted to make sure you were...okay still."

"Oh." He swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I'm...I think I'm good. Feeling a bit like a zombie. Undead. Specifically. Not dead, but...undead. I feel like if I was dead, I'd actually be able to get some sleep." He let out a weak, "Heh", and shrugged tiredly. "Mostly from, you know, all of it. Not just the gas I don't think."

Sarah nodded quickly. "Okay. Good."

But she was looking at him in a way that was different from anything he'd ever seen in her face before. He wasn't sure what it was but her mask was slipping. She probably didn't even know it was slipping. Something had spooked her. Something had really spooked her, but he had a feeling if he asked her, he'd never get a straight answer out of her.

And because he couldn't help it, his concern for her taking precedence over everything else, he asked her anyway. "Sarah, are _you_ okay?"

She just gave him a long look. And she didn't answer. But the fact that she didn't immediately deny anything was wrong made him reach out and curl his hand around hers.

"C'mere. Sit."

Sarah did, sitting on the end of his bed. And then she glanced over her shoulder at the mess of sheets and shook her head. "You were sleeping. I shouldn't have come this late."

"No, I wasn't sleeping. I was doin' my best to give it a go, though." He gave her a crooked smile and plopped down at the end of his bed next to her. "No cigar."

She pulled her shoulders up to her ears in something of a shrug and stared at his television across from her. She fell into silence again and it was an uncomfortable one that he ached to fill. But with what?

And then she turned and just stared at him again. This time he saw regret, guilt. And he couldn't for the life of him understand why.

"Chuck, I'm going to say something and I'm not sure I want a response. I just need to say this, okay?" Her eyes fell to his chest for a moment, she swallowed, and then she looked back up at him, questioning in her face. He nodded, trying to give her a reassuring look, but he wasn't sure how it came off. He was unsettled by how unsteady she seemed, almost as if she was a little off. "Being a spy isn't easy. And I know I don't need to tell you that. After all these months of having to work for the government, with the Intersect lodged in your head, you know this job is difficult. But it means putting your needs on a back-burner, so to speak, setting them aside. Because other people's lives are on the line." She took a deep breath and looked away. "But—and I need you to really hear this and take it to heart, Chuck—sometimes it's okay not to be so altruistic. Sometimes it's okay to put your own well-being first. Okay?"

He met her gaze and smiled a little. "That's not what you do."

She looked away from him, seemingly annoyed by his response. "That's not accurate, Chuck. If I was more altruistic, like you, I would've pulled myself off of this assignment a long time ago and let myself be replaced by someone who could protect you without…" She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then shut them, sighing. "...all of the extra stuff."

"Are you saying you've stayed for selfish reasons?" He couldn't believe his ears. She was wrong. Flat-out wrong.

"Maybe."

"And that's why you didn't leave, even when you so obviously wanted to after you found out that I agreed to join the NSA?"

She rolled her eyes and he thought she understood the point he was making. He dropped his gaze to where she was squeezing her knees in both hands, so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "You know I can't answer that."

"Can't or won't?"

"I can't. I don't...have the words. I'm not as good at that as you are, okay?" She was getting frustrated, and he could see she was regretting coming here in the first place. That was the last thing he wanted.

"Okay," he breathed. "It's okay—"

"No, Chuck. It isn't. But as always, you're being sweet and kind." She pushed a hand through her hair and turned her face away from him. He didn't know what was going on. He was incredibly confused. But he did know that she hadn't just shown up at his window to make sure he was all right after the gas knocked him out. That was an excuse. A flimsy one.

"Look, I can see you're okay. I should let you get some sleep," she said then. There was a desperate feel to her, like she had to get out of here, even though she'd been the one to show up at his window like this.

As she stood up, he was hit with a desperation of his own, and he reached out and took her hand again, not quite as gently as he had before. He loosened his grip immediately, but still held on, when she turned back to flash wide eyes at him.

"Sarah, I know—I know things aren't like they were before. You're my partner now. Not my handler. I'm—I'm an agent. Or at least...learning. But if you could just… Would you mind just staying here for a few minutes? I mean, until I can...fall asleep?" He winced even as he asked, knowing how wrong it was of him to ask that of her. She'd made it clear as day that wasn't what things were anymore.

She turned to face him. He watched as she pressed her lips together, emotion sweeping through her face, before she shook her head and let out a rough breath. "Chuck. I'm going to do everything within my power to make sure I'm the partner you deserve. I will protect you as long as they let me. Maybe longer even." He heard her swallow hard. "You think I'm somebody that I'm not. I don't know what else I can say or do to convince you that I'm not worth…" She huffed and glanced over at the window longingly. "You need to open your eyes a little wider, look a little harder, Chuck. I'm a good spy. That's all there is to me."

He frowned deeply as she slipped her hand out of his. "That's not even slightly true."

She leaned in just a bit, a serious but sad look on her face. "Yes. It is. Get some rest, Chuck. I'll see you tomorrow, huh? Beckman will for sure have a mission for us by then. We're the best team she's got."

Chuck wanted to stand up and follow her to the window, grab her by her shoulders, shake her, yell at her until she understood just how wrong she was. He didn't know what happened to make her say those things. And he just sat there, staring at her back as she opened the window and crawled out into the courtyard.

As she shut the window again, she spared one last look at him. He couldn't read it. But then she was gone.

Sarah Walker was everything he thought she was and more. Nothing she could say would dissuade him from knowing that was true. And he was afraid that nothing he could say would dissuade her from not believing it was true. She left the safety of her place, came out of the shadows she apparently thought she belonged in, and showed up at his window. Even her excuse to see him was selfless and kind. Her actual reason, he still didn't know what it was, but he had to think it was kindness as well. And as much as it wasn't like it was before he decided to join the NSA, she would still come to his door in fifteen minutes flat if he needed her to. For any reason. He knew she would.

She didn't see any of what he saw. And he didn't understand why or how. He didn't know how to save her from it. But he knew he would keep opening the window for her to come in. And he would keep trying to make her see. Whether it meant he could be with her or not. She said she would be the partner he deserved. He had no doubt about that. But he would also strive to be the voice she deserved to hear, the voice that told her just how worthy she really was. Whether she wanted to listen to him or not. He would keep trying.

He fell back onto his bed and sighed, staring determinedly at the ceiling. If anything, she'd just solidified his resolve. He wasn't going to quit. It wasn't as much about them as it was about her, now. He would fix things. Fuck if he knew how. But he'd do it.

He'd do it.


	61. Chapter 61

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from this story.

* * *

Sarah absolutely dreaded this, but it had to be done.

She opened the door to the apartment and winced as Ellie looked up. The smile that was on her face dropped as soon as she saw Sarah with Chuck's arm around her shoulders, helping him slump inside.

"Chuck! Are you okay?" Ellie asked.

"Fine, Sis, I'm fine," Chuck mumbled, as Sarah continued to support him. "Head is killing me, but I'm fine." Sarah sighed, repressing the urge to roll her eyes. He'd explicitly told Sarah he didn't want to rile Ellie up when they got inside. Mentioning his head was killing him to his sister, a neurologist? The easiest way to rile her up.

"Put him here," Ellie said, pointing to the couch and even the Ice Queen knew better than to argue with sister/doctor Eleanor Bartowski. "Did you hit your head?"

"No, too many flashes," Sarah replied when Chuck just pressed his lips together. "It's my fault. I put him in charge of the op and, well..."

"You can't say it went bad," Chuck interrupted, nearly pleading. "For the love of God, my head almost exploded, but we caught so many bad guys. They won't be able to hurt anybody anymore."

Ellie looked up at Sarah. Nodding, she gave her a weak smile. "He did good, Ellie, really good." Ellie raised an eyebrow. "It was a good plan, Chuck, we just...didn't plan for there to be a crowd of criminals there. And the Intersect is so variable with what it has you flash on..."

"I should've thought about that. I'm the one with the Intersect. I should've known it would happen and I didn't. I screwed up, Ellie, but we made it work, still. We were successful. That's what spies do, right, Sarah? When things go bad, we make it work, right?" Chuck asked, his eyes closed as Ellie helped him lie down across the couch.

The sound of Chuck trying to get her encouragement and approval felt like a knife to the heart, as he lay there in excruciating pain he might not be in if it weren't for a decision he made that was primarily based around getting her approval … it was a vicious, painful circle.

"Yeah, that's what they do," Sarah said as encouragingly as she could manage, wrapping her arms around herself as Ellie checked him over. She felt his forehead, checked his pupils, and asked him quiet questions, to which she received quiet answers.

All the while, Sarah was feeling more and more lost in this situation.

"Is he okay?" she asked Ellie after a few minutes, unable to resist. Ellie nodded. Sarah stepped in close, her hand aching to take his, feel its warmth and reassurance. But she didn't. She just flexed her fingers and then dropped her hand back to her side. "Um. I'm gonna go wait outside for a bit, by the fountain. If you need me, I'll be out there, Chuck, okay?"

"I'm fine, Sarah, thanks," Chuck said, eyes still closed.

Sarah nodded and escaped outside, immediately going towards the fountain and sitting on the edge of it, tilting her head back to look up at the stars.

Huffing out a breath, she ran her hand through her hair. Ever misstep, every ache and pain, every hurdle Chuck faced as a new agent had Sarah feeling a deep and relentless guilt. All of it was her fault.

He joined the NSA to help people, to stay out of a bunker, but he admitted it was mostly to be the kind of guy she might find worthy of her. And tonight, flashing on every single criminal, the dozens who were there, wouldn't have ever happened if it weren't for that. What had she done? How had she made him think he wasn't good enough for her? It had to be something. She hadn't done it purposely, whatever it was. And that didn't matter.

She blinked up at the stars, what few of them she could see, and fought the tears pooling in her eyes.

How didn't he get that _she_ wasn't enough for _him_? He'd flashed on her. He'd seen that she'd killed people. She was a killer…She'd made decisions that had ruined and in many cases ended people's lives. And for all she knew, some of them might have been innocent lives, considering most of her missions and ops ended with Graham telling her it was above her pay grade to know.

How didn't he understand that by doing this, the chances of him getting out of this mess alive were minute?

She was going to be the reason Chuck Bartowski was killed, and it was killing _her_ from the inside out. She was going to be the reason that the best guy on the entire planet died. And for that matter, she still didn't understand how Chuck's family—Ellie especially—was affording her so much kindness and understanding. What with the way Ellie knew she was the reason why Chuck was inside lying on the couch in head-splitting agony.

She heard the door open and close and she quickly wiped her eyes, removing any evidence of tears. Ellie was walking towards her, a glass of wine in each hand. Sarah gave her a warm, grateful smile and accepted the wine as Ellie sat down next to her.

"He's okay, right?" Sarah asked, staring down at the wine in her hand.

"He's okay," Ellie replied, nodding. "In fact, he and Devon are talking about fixing the TV now. That was what he'd promised to do tonight before this mission came up anyway." Sarah started to apologize for taking Chuck away for a mission but Ellie shook her head. "No, don't start. Do you know he's paying us rent now?" Sarah smiled. She wasn't surprised. "He's using the extra money NSA is paying him to pay us rent. He tried to get us to accept all the back-pay, but I wouldn't let him. He's lived with us since he was kicked out of Stanford. I'm not doing that to him." She huffed and shook her head. "But he did buy us a new TV."

Sarah gave her a look and Ellie snorted. "That's what went through my mind, too, it's definitely for movie night." Sarah shook her head. "But, he's totally buying things we all can use, and I love him for trying. ...He's trying so hard."

Sarah could only stare down at her wine again. She knew he was. And not just with Ellie and Devon.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Sarah gave Ellie a look again and the other woman held her hand up. "For strictly medical reasons, and please, start at the beginning so I have all the info I need to help my patient."

"Strictly for medical reasons," Sarah muttered, shaking her head. "God, you Bartowskis are all alike."

"We are," Ellie said, mock sighing. "It's our burden to toll in life."

Sarah burst out with a giggle.

Sighing, she began. "We picked up on some chatter about a hitman we've been after throwing a birthday party at a local karaoke bar and Beckman wanted to see if we could get in and spot the guy, maybe take him in." Sarah swirled her wine a bit and sipped it, careful not to look at Ellie. She was nearly as transparent as her brother. "He's trying SO hard to give me space. Avoiding potentially awkward arrangements. Partly for himself, I'm sure, but mostly for me." She couldn't help smiling a little at the memory of the look on Casey's face. "His idea he came up with…He decided that Casey and I would in as an uncle and his niece. He insisted Casey has a beautiful singing voice."

Ellie fell against Sarah's shoulder laughing. "Which…." She couldn't finish the question from laughing so hard. She finally sat up, and wiped tears from her eyes. "Which one of you shot _that_ down?"

"We did this thing where we both looked at each other and said no at the same time," Sarah said, shaking her head, still laughing. "As awkward as I knew it might be, I suggested Chuck and I just go in as a couple. And if he signed up to sing, it would get him up on the stage where he'd have an easier time of spotting the guy we were looking for."

Ellie nodded, thankfully not commenting on Sarah's decision except for a steady, "Makes sense. So, what went wrong then?"

"You know who goes to a hitman's birthday party?" Sarah asked. Ellie's eyes widened. "That's right, a bunch of really bad dudes. Criminals who are all in the Intersect's database." Sarah shook her head.

She looked away from Ellie and thought back to Chuck at the karaoke bar, leaning in and muttering, "Listen, I'll go up there, sing your song, and I'll flash on the dude. We'll know who he is, we can tag him, and bring him in. Easy peasy."

Sarah had stared at him for a moment before replying, "Chuck, nothing in the spy world is easy peasy."

"Well, not everything in the spy world is complicated," he'd countered. There'd been a moment where she'd seen the look on his face, like maybe he shouldn't have said that. And she'd gaped a little at him as he'd cleared his throat. "You know I'm right."

She'd been miffed.

"No, you aren't right, this whole life is tremendously complicated and I don't think you understand that," she'd shot back. "I don't think you understand you can't trust everything you see or are told."

"I don't have to," Chuck had countered. "I trust you, and that's all that matters." She hadn't had anything to say to that. "I get up there, sing a Michael Bolton song to you, flash on the jerk, and it's over."

She'd known she shouldn't, she'd known that all it would do would be to fuel him, but part of her...part of her hadn't been able to help herself. "I don't like Michael Bolton," she'd snapped.

Chuck had stopped mid-stride, turned toward her, and with a small grin, gave a nod. "Right, noted." She'd allowed herself a private smile, but then he'd gotten on stage and alarm bells had gone off in her immediately. He'd no sooner looked into the crowd than it had began, one after another. Flash after flash after flash. She'd yelled, shoving people out of the way as the flashes had obviously become too much for him, his knees buckling, and she had ran towards him with the intention of getting him the hell out of the place as quickly as she could.

Now, as she sat beside Ellie, she slipped her spy mask on, holding her wine glass so tight between her fingers that her knuckles went white.

"Hey, he's okay," Ellie said, gently sliding her fingers over Sarah's. Sarah immediately eased up on the glass. "Really. It just overloaded his brain a bit, but like with any old headache, with some rest, he'll be right as rain." Sarah nodded. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yo! Babe!" Devon called from the door. They both looked toward the apartment. "You need to see what the Chuckster's done."

"We're not done," Ellie said, squeezing her hand. They both walked in to look at the TV. Chuck had kept it on a local channel, the news anchor announcing something about some general from somewhere, and a attack. But before Sarah saw anything else, Devon's beeper went off, making her jump.

"That's me! Super secret doctor stuff," he said, with a smile and a wink at both Sarah and Chuck. Jesus Christ, no wonder Chuck always acted like he did with Awesome encouraging it like this.

But then she saw the strange look on Chuck's face, and it was a look she recognized. Before she could ask him if he'd flashed, Chuck widened his eyes and gave the minutest of head shakes, speaking up quickly. "You know what? I forgot...er, something about the mission. Sarah...can you… We're just going to...my bedroom?"

"Oh. Right. Um, okay." As they walked, she took his arm and held him steady. "Did you flash?" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, big time."

"Why didn't you just say something? Why are we going into your bedroom?" They stepped into his room and she shut the door. "What is it, Chuck?" she asked in a regular tone of voice now.

"Look, I just didn't want Ellie to know that I flashed again. After the way I looked when you helped me inside earlier, after flashing on all those criminals at the karaoke bar. She'd be way too worried and overprotective. I still feel like I need to protect her from as much of this as I can."

Oh. She nodded. "I see." Chuck already had his cell phone out. "Are you telling Beckman? Was it the general on the news?"

"Yes and yes." There was a quiet beep from his cell and then she felt her own phone go off in her pocket. "And there it is. Another mission. Let's go," he said with a sigh. He still looked like he was in pain and it worried her more than she could say.

They made their way back down the hallway.

"El, we're off on another mission, looks like. I'll see ya later, huh?" He closed the distance and kissed his worried sister on the forehead.

"Wait. Sarah, he can't—There's no way he can drive in this condition."

"I know. It's okay, Ellie. I'm driving."

They walked back through the courtyard a few moments later and Chuck got into the passenger seat of the car. Sarah paused before she swung in to sit behind the wheel, and she looked up to the heavens, begging whatever was up there to go easy for God damn once.

}o{

The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder in Castle as Casey made the call to Beckman, and they watched the screen come to life. The moment Beckman appeared, Sarah spoke up beside him.

"General, I'm not sure if we should be putting Chuck back into the field so soon after what he went through tonight," she said, clasping her hands together in front of her. "He must have flashed upwards of twenty times or more. That can't be good for his health."

There was a long pause as Chuck stared straight ahead, his brow furrowed. He could still feel a direct ache between his eyes.

"Agent Carmichael?" Beckman caught his eye. "Are you all right?"

He could almost feel Sarah's nervous tension. He couldn't read her. Was she that worried for his safety that she'd try to keep him out of the field tonight? Or did she think he wasn't experienced enough to handle more than one mission per day the way she and Casey might be.

The thought of it maybe being the last thing made him shrug.

"What's one more flash, right, General?" Chuck asked. The General gave him a glare. "I apologize ma'am, I am trying to do what my trainers would do in this situation and just... work through it."

"Agent Carmichael, Agents Walker and Casey do NOT have the Intersect in their brain," Beckman reminded them. "You are valuable."

"So are they," he replied. He felt Sarah go rigid but he wasn't sure why. "I am okay, General, seriously. It's just a headache, and as long as you don't ask me to flash on a bunch of papers I'll be okay."

"Agent Carmichael, I refuse to send agents on missions that put them in situations they are not prepared for unless it is absolutely necessary. I know some of the things we've had you do in the past might have felt that way." She gave a sardonic sigh and he wasn't quite sure what to do with her candidness. Was it the absence of Graham hovering over her shoulder that had Gen. Diane Beckman's true colors showing? "I hope you understand things will be different now, and we will not put you in those kinds of situations if we can help it. You're an agent. In training." she added pointedly.

He got the hint.

"Thank you, General," he said sincerely. Beckman nodded, and began the briefing.

"The Costa Gravan premier is listed in critical condition," she began. Casey looked giddy.

"Outstanding. Want me to crack the bubbly?" He rubbed his hands together then turned to Chuck and Sarah. "Remind me to tell you about the time I lived in his wall for a month," he said.

"No. I want you to go to the hospital and guard against further threats to his life, natural or otherwise," Beckman replied. Casey looked personally insulted.

"But haven't you personally given me the order to kill that commie crackpot on three separate occasions?" Casey argued.

"And three times, you have failed to complete your orders," Beckman said, taking off her glasses and giving Casey a look.

"I thought you said you had a perfect record," Sarah replied, never looking up, all while taking notes.

Chuck spun to look at Sarah. She gave him a smirk and for just one second it was almost like old times. The two of them, taking shots at Casey, Casey making inappropriate sexual innuendos.

The smirk faded but Chuck opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "Wow. This is getting entertainingly uncomfortable."

"Our relations with Costa Gravas have changed, Major," Beckman continued trying to ignore the snipes at each other. "The Premier is here to announce plans to open his nation up to democratic elections."

"Oh, and you believe that?" he snickered.

Beckman continued right over him. "Our duty is to stop anyone who would stop him from going through with his plan. Understood?" That was definitely directed right at Casey.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied through gritted teeth.

"So, we're assuming this was an assassination attempt?" Sarah asked.

"We're not assuming anything until we've secured his medical records," Beckman replied. "That brings me to your assignment. The premier is being treated at…"

"Let me guess. Westside Medical?" Chuck cut in, having a terrible feeling about this.

"Correct," Beckman replied.

"General, are you suggesting that I exploit my sister and/or brother-in-law to acquire confidential medical records for governmental use?" Chuck asked, deciding Beckman could handle him being up front with his questions.

Beckman squirmed a bit. He'd never seen her do that before. "No, Chuck, that's not what I'm suggesting."

Chuck had an even worse feeling about this. "It's not…what you're suggesting..." He paused and saw a storm cloud look on Sarah's face. "General, what _are_ you suggesting?"

"Chuck, your soon-to-be brother-in-law knows who you are and what you are. Bring him here for a confidential debriefing," Beckman explained. "You really watch way too many spy movies." With that she cut the feed.

"Way to go, Numb nuts," Casey grumbled, and left.

Chuck turned to Sarah, hoping for back-up. "I've been trying to tell you that for months," she muttered, stepping away from him and making her way out of the room as well.

"I'm listening," he replied. She paused, shook her head, and walked off. He knew he shouldn't hold onto the fact she had paused. He knew he shouldn't.

}o{

Chuck trotted down the stairs into Castle and spotted Sarah sitting on the edge of the conference table, watching a local news station on the screen. He slowed when he saw who was _on_ the screen.

"Whoa, is that—?"

Sarah turned and smiled over her shoulder at him. And then she turned back to the screen, turning up the volume a bit as he stood next to her.

Reporters were asking Devon questions and he was talking to them about how he saved Costa Gravan Premier Alejandro Fulgencio Goya's life. He looked like a full-blown hero in his doctor's coat, the stethoscope around his neck, that big perfect grin.

One of the reporters asked him a question in Spanish and he responded in the same language. Sarah straightened up and turned wide eyes to Chuck, her jaw falling open. Apparently she hadn't realized he spoke Spanish. She seemed quite impressed.

"Is there anything your almost brother-in-law can't do?"

Chuck glanced her direction. "Well, thus the nickname." He should let it go, and be professional. He started to go with that, when he thought back to his bedroom and what she had said. "But it's just those two languages, as far as I know. And you know, what, like, ten...eleven languages?" She shrugged. "You're more than worthy of that nickname yourself, you know." She didn't say anything to that, merely ducking her head. "You're pretty awesome. Not just as a spy, but as a person. I don't know if that's something you hear enough so I thought you could hear it again. Right now. From me."

She was silent for a few seconds, not seeming to know how to respond. But there was no spy mask. And that surprised him. She was just...unsure. Or something.

"Devon should be here soon," Sarah said, turning back to the screen to watch as Devon excused himself and hastened away from the gaggle of microphones. "He knows to come here, right? You did text him?"

Chuck held up his phone and gave it a little shake between his fingers. It dinged and he grinned as he opened it.

"We're good to go," Chuck said. "I'll wait out front for him." He felt he'd probably be a little bit more welcome out there than in here. Not that he really blamed her. He headed for the stairs again.

"Wait," Sarah said, grabbing his arm. He gave her a look. "I need to explain something. It's important."

"Okay," he said softly, coming back to stand in front of her.

"To make all of this work, we have CIA employees working in the Orange Orange. They are beginner agents. We have two, one is Victoria Dunwoody, the other, the one who will be manning the counter the most, is Betsy Braddock." Chuck stared at her, his jaw falling open. "What?" she asked dubiously.

"Betsy Braddock?" he asked, pushing his pie in the sky hope for what she meant to talk to him about back into the deepest recesses of his mind. Sarah shook her head, confused. "Psylocke? ...X-Men? Really?" Chuck looked around the room. "Is there no one else…? Nobody can share this moment with me. Seriously. I'm just...nevermind." He shook his head. "Betsy...HA!" He turned to leave and she grabbed his hand again.

"Chuck, for your safety, we have told them you are an analyst," Sarah explained.

Chuck faced her again and nodded. "Gotcha." he said.

She must have seen something in his features because she held his hand a bit tighter and caught his eye. "This isn't us downplaying your role on the team, Chuck. You're still in training but it's to be an agent, a full-fledged field agent. But the fact that you have the Intersect is need to know," she said, lowering her voice and stepping in a bit closer. "To be frank, literally no one but the people who already know...needs to know." She winced at her phrasing.

"No, I get it. I get it." He smiled, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. "Thank you for explaining though. I appreciate that." Even after everything, Agent Sarah Walker was still looking out for more than just his physical safety.

He pulled away and moved towards the staircase again. "Hey, when I bring Devon down, can we have the room?" he asked over his shoulder. "Just, you know, hermano y hermano."

"Got it," she said, nodding once. "Good luck."

He widened his eyes a bit at her with one last look and then jogged up the stairs to wait for Devon in front of the shop.

}o{

"Bro, this is so cool!" Devon said. "So, is this a debriefing? Like an official debriefing? Are we in your secret base?"

"Yep," Chuck replied, thankful someone was impressed with him and his ...analyst role. "Listen, all I need to know is what happened with the Premier. The...prognosis. Or whatever."

"Well, I know he didn't really have a heart attack," Awesome replied. "His potassium level was off the charts. I don't know how something like that got into his system…"

"He was poisoned," Chuck muttered. Then he nodded, his hands on his hips. "Okay, that's all I needed to know. Thanks." He clapped him on the back and then tried to walk him out again.

"Whoa, Chuck," Devon began, pulling him back. "You know, if there's anything else I can do... If the CIA needs an extra set of hands…"

"Good to know," Chuck said, cutting him off, trying to pull him along again.

"Chuck, you're not hearing me. Okay? Nothing against my life with Ellie, but I could use some real excitement."

"Devon, you're an adventure sports cardiologist," Chuck said, amazed by what he was hearing. Didn't Devon understand the danger? How much trouble this life could be? He could be killed, for God's sake...

Oh. Was this how Sarah felt with him? Was this how he sounded to her?

"Whatever, man," Devon replied, pulling Chuck out of his thoughts. "I can do that in my sleep. I need some real action, you know? Some real adrenaline. I want to feel like I felt out on the football field, dude. You know I can still run a four-four-40."

Chuck knew he had to cut this in the bud. "Devon, listen, this is great. If we ever need a tight-end, you're the first call I'm making, but until then, you're my soon-to-be brother-in-law. Ellie would kill me. Like worse than she ever was about me joining the NSA." Devon nodded, looking crestfallen. "I think I scare her enough, you know?" Chuck looked up through the see-through glass wall of the room they were in and spotted Sarah at another table, giving them space, clicking away on a computer.

"Any change on that front, Chuckster?" Devon asked, being serious for a moment. He'd followed Chuck's gaze and frowned.

Chuck shook his head. "I don't really know. Which I guess is better than knowing I don't have a chance. Right? But not much change, no." Chuck looked Devon in the eye. "What you have with Ellie is too special to give up, man. Don't do what I did." Devon looked at him for a long moment, nodded, and headed upstairs alone as Chuck stayed quietly ruminating in his own thoughts.

}o{

The group gathered in Casey's apartment the next morning waiting on their briefing. Beckman popped onto the monitor and all three turned to face her.

"Thanks to your soon to be brother-in-law's intelligence, we have to assume that the assassin is still in play. There's an event at the Costa Gravan Consulate this evening. I need your team there to guard the premier."

"You want us to break in?" Chuck asked.

"Technically, that's invading sovereign soil," Sarah replied. Chuck looked over at her, eyes wide.

"That is why the CIA and NSA has no official knowledge of this mission," Beckman replied.

Chuck looked from Sarah to Beckman. "Uh, just spit-balling here, General. Why don't we just tell the premier that his life is in danger?"

"Would you trust a country that spent the better part of three decades trying to kill you?" Sarah asked. Chuck pressed his lips together and tilted his head, conceding the point.

"Your protection must go undetected," Beckman said, looking at Chuck.

"What? So, that-that's... that's it?" Chuck asked her. "If we get busted, U.S. intelligence disavows us, and we rot for the rest of our lives in a Costa Gravan prison?"

"In Costa Gravas, the punishment for sedition is death by firing squad," Sarah added.

Chuck looked from Sarah to Beckman to Casey.

"Numb nuts," Casey growled. "Do you think the General would send the Intersect on that kind of mission? For the Premier? Did you pay any attention to what was said earlier?"

Beckman had only the slightest look of amusement on her face, while Sarah was nibbling on her top lip, obviously trying not to laugh.

"What happened to be professional?" Chuck asked drily.

Beckman just gave him a knowing smirk, then turned to look at Casey. "Major...you know you can't be a part of this mission."

"Wait, what? This is his type of mission, and he's bailing?" Chuck asked. Casey shrugged and Chuck looked over at Beckman. "He's bailing on us?"

"I can't show my face on Costa Gravan soil. I'm a wanted man," Casey said, nonchalantly, as though that was a totally normal thing for any normal person to say. "You know what they'd do if they knew I was in Los Angeles? I spilled a helluva lotta blood. You ever see those, uh, what're they called...those 'Seen' movies?" Casey stopped as Chuck began to laugh. Casey glared at Chuck.

"If you're talking about the _Saw_ series," he emphasized, "don't you think you're being a little paranoid?"

Casey got a pleasurable look on his face and a bit of a smile. Chuck and Sarah shared a look and each of them looked as uncomfortable as they felt. "They call me el Angel de la Muerte. The Angel of Death."

"Please. Bro, wasn't it, like, the '80s? Come on. You really think the Premier gives a flying crap about you, John Casey? Oh, no! It's the Angel of Death!" Chuck was laughing over the entire thing. Casey just glared at him. Chuck realized he might get himself murdered by said Angel of Death so he shut his trap and soberly turned back to Beckman. "So if we're not going to break in and possibly be disavowed, how are we to get in?"

Beckman gave him a look and locked her fingers together. "Devon will be given an invitation to the gala and you and Agent Walker will attend as a couple."

"How do you know this?" Chuck asked.

"I listened in on your miniature debriefing with Dr. Woodcomb," Beckman replied. "And before you get on your high-horse, you are a new agent, and you were discussing intel with a civilian. Of course we're listening in." Chuck rubbed out the affronted look on his face and sighed, nodding, knowing she had a point. "As for the invitations…"

"It's the Costa Gravans," Casey replied, shrugging. "They make a production out of everything."

"You can't kn…...what's that noise?" Chuck asked.

Casey peaked out the window shade. "It's the Costa Gravans," Casey replied. Casey looked over at Chuck. "Did you ever learn the male part of the tango?" Chuck grimaced as Sarah looked away.

}o{

"You know, for a party thrown by a small-time dictator, it isn't half bad."

Sarah shot Devon a wry look. She wouldn't tell him about the time she went to a gala that was hosted by a big-time dictator. That probably wouldn't go down so well with the alcohol he'd already had to drink.

"You ever do this before?" Devon asked then, and he bobbed his eyebrows excitedly.

"What?"

"You know, have to protect a super important person who has bad guys after him. Be a bodyguard. Like secret service or something."

God, he was just like his future brother-in-law. She sighed in exasperation as Chuck jumped in from where he stood next to her, his arm out a little for her to tuck her own arm into for their cover.

"She's CIA, Awesome. Not Secret Service."

"Oh. Right."

"I did a year in Secret Service, so trust me...I've got this handled." The arm she was holding onto went tense and she frowned a little, turning to look at Chuck. He was gaping at her, his eyebrows practically at his hairline. "What?"

"Y-You...You were...You protected...You were Secret...Secret Serv—hah—oh…"

"That's _awesome_!" Devon chirped, going in for a high five. She let him have it, shaking her head and smirking. Chuck was still trying to form words, staring at her so hard it was starting to get a little weird. "I think you broke my future bro, Sarah."

It really looked that way. She clamped her teeth down on the inside of her cheek to keep from showing too much amusement at Chuck's antics, and then glanced over Devon's shoulder, her gaze resting on Ellie over near the dance floor. She was awkwardly drinking her wine in big gulps as none other than Alejandro Goya himself, the man they were here to protect from assassination, talked to her. He was way, way too close. Crap.

"Looks like Ellie's found our charge," she said, this time letting her amusement show.

Devon smiled and looked over his shoulder. The smile died immediately. And he took a step towards his fiancée, his body going rigid. Thankfully Chuck sprang into action, putting himself in between the doctor and the dictator.

"Whoa, whoa...hold on. Whoa."

"Chuck. Bro. My future wife is talking to…" He looked to and fro, then lowered his voice thankfully. "...a guy who lots of other bad guys are trying to kill. I don't think they're gonna care if they get an innocent person along with him. I'm not letting Ellie be collateral damage."

"Neither are we, Awesome. Okay? You have to trust that we've got this." She watched as he caught sight of security guards at the exit that she'd pegged herself right when they walked into the place, then he glanced over Devon's shoulder at the other exit. "Which reminds me…" He brought his watch up to his lips. "Casey, I got guards with submachine guns at both the north and west exits."

"Copy that," she heard the Angel de la Muerte say in her ear from where he was running things in the van. "Main doors have hidden metal detectors. Someone should go around back and check the service entrance."

"What? What...Is it Casey? What's the guy saying? Is Ellie in danger? Is someone makin' their move on Goya?" Devon whispered.

"Devon, it's okay. Calm down. If any of Goya's men see you're nervous, they'll suspect something. Okay?" She glanced over at Ellie and Goya and smoothed one hand down her dress. Then she gave Chuck a look she hoped he understood.

He gave her a small, serious nod. He obviously trusted she'd take care of his sister.

"Let the professional handle this, 'kay, bud?" He put a reassuringly hand on Devon's shoulder, but Sarah already turned and made her way through the crowd towards the small scene Goya was making over Ellie's hand.

She moved even faster, miffed she hadn't just stepped in earlier. There was no reason for Ellie to have suffered in this asshole's presence for _this_ long.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Sarah chirped, stepping around Goya and sidling up close to Ellie's side.

"NO!" Ellie burst out desperately. "No. You are not. Interrupting. At all." She read the _help me_ look clear as day. "Uh, Sarah? Sarah, this is, uh, the Premier." The brunette quickly pulled her hand out of Goya's grip, with more grace and subtlety than Sarah expected...and here she thought the doctor couldn't be any more impressive than she already was.

"Call me Generalissimo," Goya half growled, sticking his hand out.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Sarah said, taking his hand with a faked reverence.

He moved in as if to pull both of the young women closer to him, a bit of a lecherous snicker coming from him and she quickly put her hand out to strong arm him, giggling. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Generalissimo, but I'm just going to have to borrow her for a second. You know, girl talk."

"Yes, yes, of course," he chuckled, holding his hands up, and Sarah grabbed Ellie by the arm, still grinning at the dictator as she tugged Chuck's sister out of harm's way and over to a table in the corner.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, that was so slick. Wish I had you around at every bar and nightclub I went to before I got a ring on this finger. You're a gift, Sarah!" Ellie hissed, hugging herself close to Sarah's side.

Sarah laughed quietly. "I've had a lot of practice."

They sat down, Sarah careful to take a chair that still leant her a view of the entire room.

"Thank God you rescued me. That guy's cologne is practically a WMD."

Sarah threw her head back with a genuine laugh and squeezed Ellie's arm in camaraderie. "It wasn't so much the cologne I smelled, but the hubris." She paused then, glancing over at where their men still stood, shoulder to shoulder. "Besides, one of us had to step in before Devon caused a scene."

Ellie made a face. "Really? He was going to cause a scene? He's usually not the jealous type." She snorted and waved in their general direction. "I mean, he doesn't have any reason to be. Look at him. He's an Adonis." She wrinkled her nose. "It's why I'm marrying him."

"Oh!" Sarah laughed. "The only reason?"

"Yep!" Ellie shrugged. They laughed.

"No, it was just that, you know, Goya is sort of a dangerous man and Devon's worried about your safety being around a guy like that." Sarah shrugged.

"Awww. That's kinda cute. Though I'd also be okay with him being a tad bit jealous. Just between us girls." She giggled and leaned her chin on her palm, propping her elbow on the table and just taking it all in. Then she seemed to almost snap out of all of it and shook herself, turning to put her hand on top of Sarah's knee to squeeze it. "Oh. God. Sorry. You said you wanted to talk to me. Girl talk." She gave Sarah a dry look at that.

"Sorry, I was talking in terms his caveman brain would understand. But, um… It-It's okay. I'm good. I just wanted to rescue you, that's all," she said, and she could hear how unconvincing it was. Without realizing it, she glanced across the room towards Chuck and Devon. They were still standing there, facing their table, almost as if they were both watching over them still.

Part of Sarah wanted to snap into her bracelet that Chuck better be watching the room for any potential threats to the generalissimo. But she caught his eye across the room and quickly looked away instead.

He knew what his role was and she needed to get a hold of herself.

Ellie wore a supreme look of _Really?_ on her face. "Sarah. Come on. It's me." She winced then. "And I realize me is, uh...also...his sister. Ugh. I'm sorry."

Sarah tried really hard to just shrug it off. "I don't know what you mean." All Ellie had to do was look at her a certain way and Sarah sighed, sinking in her chair just a bit. "Look, it-it is what it is, Ellie."

"It is what it is has always been one of those phrases that makes me wanna tear my hair out. It doesn't have to be...what it is. That made no sense." She grumbled at herself. "It has to be hard, you and Chuck in this rough patch with him joining the NSA—"

"It isn't a rough patch, Ellie, okay? There is no patch. There never was a patch. Not really. It was...us...dancing around a patch and then...Well, I walked away from it. Because he...set it on fire."

"The patch?" Ellie asked, looking like she might laugh in spite of herself. Sarah snorted, which turned into a giggle, and then they were giggling together.

"God," Sarah groaned, shaking her head. "It's so hard for me to talk to you two. Easy but hard."

"Yeeeah, we're stinkers, us Bartowskis. But you should talk to me anyway." She wrinkled her nose cutely and Sarah couldn't resist. There was just something so warm and patient and calming about Ellie Bartowski's presence. She set her at ease in a way no one ever had. Chuck had his moments, but that just tended to freak her out even more because there'd always been something else there too.

"It is hard," she admitted, nodding, and she looked over at Chuck again. He was talking to his future brother-in-law. And even then, she saw he really was keeping an eye on things. He was good at this. He'd kept Devon calm when he easily could have freaked out about his sister's safety too. And maybe he had freaked out on the inside, but he let her handle his sister instead. Teamwork. He was good at this. "It's really hard," she breathed.

"Do I need to knock the guy in his head?" Ellie asked, a thread of teasing in her voice.

"No," she chuckled. "No. I think I've already dragged him through the coals enough." She wasn't sure how much she could tell Ellie here. After all, this really was her brother they were talking about. At least Ellie knew said brother was becoming an NSA agent. And she seemed to be oh so slowly coming to peace with it. Much better than Sarah was.

"Yeah, he's been looking sort of roughed up lately. If I'm being honest. He's finally getting some sympathy from me. This whole thing is still...it's crazy. And I still hate it. But I just have to...find ways to get past it. But that's _me_ , you know? I have to. It's different for you." Ellie shrugged.

"I made a choice to stay here and protect him. I haven't wavered in that for even a second, Ellie. But there's just…" She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Sarah, do you have feelings for Chuck? I'm hesitant to add 'still' in there, because I'm not really sure what the whole situation _really_ is or was between you two. I'm very confused about it. You two are _extremely_ different and give off vibes that are totally the opposite from one another. It's really fascinating." Sarah furrowed her brow. "Sorry. Not to get all David Attenborough on you. Yikes."

Sarah giggled in spite of herself. But she sobered up quickly and bit her lip, watching Chuck again. "I never stopped," she said, and she felt Ellie's hand take hers and squeeze gently. "I don't know if I ever will. Maybe that's why I acted so...intensely. But it isn't that easy. Nothing's easy in this life."

"The spy life?" Ellie asked wryly. "I don't get that. I mean, you guys are still human, right? You spies?"

"Of course. But there are… My life is just very different from the typical person." She turned her eyes down to the tablecloth when Chuck shifted his weight to look in her direction, and then she moved in her chair to face Ellie full on. "Ellie, he did this to be with me. He wanted to...save the world, do something good with what's in his head, which is prime Chuck Bartowski—"

"Yep," Ellie breathed, emphasizing the 'p'.

"But I know for sure now that he also did it because he wants… The asset and handler thing? It couldn't happen…"

"But as partners it can?" Sarah didn't answer. "So why not?" She looked at Chuck's sister in confusion. "You're partners now, he wants to be with you, that door is open, right? Unless...you don't want that." Ellie leaned in. "You can be honest. You're _my_ friend, too."

Sarah gave her a weak smile. "You don't get it."

"Okay, I don't get it. Explain. We've got time."

They really didn't have time. But Ellie didn't know that. She was never told the real reason why her brother and his "girlfriend" were also invited to the gala. She was here having an exciting, romantic night out with her soon-to-be husband.

"Ellie, Chuck chose to be a spy, he chose this life that...morphs people into…" She halted, realizing the only way Casey'd heard any of this was if she pressed the button on her watch and spoke into it, thank God. "Into Casey." Ellie tilted her head as if she had to hand her that point. "And he did that because he thought he needed to, to be good enough for me."

Ellie was silent, just listening apparently. So Sarah continued.

"If anything ever happens to him out there, Ellie, it will be because of me. It will be because he did this to be worthy of me. I'll be the one that destroys everything that he is. All of this... " She took a deep breath. "He thinks he doesn't add up and I know it's...because of me. I must've done something to—And anything else that happens to him is going to stem from that."

She felt so melodramatic saying it out loud, but it was what she'd been obsessing over ever since she watched the video footage of Chuck in that vault. And then the second time she'd watched it on her laptop in her own room. And the third time, the fourth time… She didn't know why she'd gone back to it over and over. It hurt every time.

The fact that he thought he was so beneath her made her want to scream. And shake him. She wanted to cut open her past like a gutted fish and just slam it down on the table in front of him. Let him look at the grisly details and he'd finally get it. He'd stop thinking she was the embodiment of the woman he'd have to reach upwards for. If anything he was far above her, reaching down, grabbing onto her hand, and trying but failing to yank her up with him.

But more than anything, watching him stand there and confess to the real reason why he didn't tell her when he was making the decision was so infuriating. He didn't want to have to listen to her as she told him he wasn't good enough to be a spy. And this, after all of this time she went out of her way to encourage him, tell him when he did a better job than most actual agents she'd worked with. What, had it gone in one ear and out the other?

He was good enough to be a spy. He was an incredible spy with the most impressive brain...perhaps on the planet, considering he was the only known person who'd survived the Intersect being jammed into his head.

"I did a lot of things wrong, Ellie. And it's led us here. I can't dive deeper into a relationship because I don't want to know how much more I can fuck it up, fuck _him_ up. Am I making any sense?"

Ellie was quiet for a while. And then she sighed. "It makes sense. And then it doesn't." She sat up straighter. "Sarah, you aren't where Chuck's self-esteem issues began. I have news for you, that guy's self-esteem had been busted for years before you came along. So…" She shrugged. "Whatever blame you're trying to take for him not thinking he's good enough for you is bull. Why do you think I liked you so quickly—I mean, besides the fact that you're likable?" Sarah raised her eyebrows instead of answering the rhetorical question. At least, she thought it was rhetorical. "Oh my God, Sarah, you put light back into his face that I haven't seen in him since he was at Stanford. And sure, knowing now that it was a cover—complications aside—it is a little different. But you awoke something in him, and yeah, I'm pretty sure you kicked his lack of self-esteem's ass. Look at the guy."

She gestured at Chuck and Devon again and Sarah reached out to grab her hand to make her stop, eyes wide. It made Ellie giggle through her nose and Sarah couldn't help smirking and shaking her head. "He was confident enough to join the fuckin' NSA, Sarah. Pretty sure you had a lot to do with that confidence. Before you, life stomped my brother down. Then you came along, and for once, he had someone...I dunno, buoying him. Supporting him. And, I'm sorry, but if this is the result, I'm okay with that. Better than the depressed sad-sack he was for, like, four years. God, he gives a _shit_ about himself now."

"You make me sound heroic," Sarah muttered a little bitterly. "I wouldn't have done everything I did if he wasn't so...him."

"Yeeeah, he's insufferable, isn't he? Try knowing him his whole life, ugh." Ellie made a face.

It made Sarah snort. "I wish." His sister softened at that. "Maybe lots of things would be different. But that doesn't matter. I'm not… Ellie, I can't get more involved with him than I already was."

"You are obviously crazy about him, and he's been...God, pining is an understatement. He thinks he's fucked it all up, Sarah. And it's killing him."

"He needs to know that it was me," Sarah said desperately. "I did this."

"You're both so annoying." Sarah gave her a surprised look. "Sorry. I love you. It's why I'm telling you the truth." Ellie put her hand on her shoulder. "You both need to get over these hang-ups, sit down, and talk. You think he's way above you, he thinks you're way above him. You think you'll screw up his life if you give into your feelings because I don't know why. He freaking jumped headfirst into a dangerous life when he maybe had the option of going back to a regular life, and he did it to save the world and be with you. You're both dancing around patches and setting them on fire…"

Sarah laughed because she couldn't help it. And she ducked her head in a self-deprecating way. "It just isn't that simple, Ellie."

"Okay, okay. Fine. I can't tell either of you what to do. Just know… I think you're both being silly. Yeah, of course it's complicated. Devon and I are complicated." Sarah didn't mean to give Ellie a doubtful look. "Oh honey," Ellie scoffed, "You have no idea what goes on behind closed doors. We have hot and cold streaks, and those weird lukewarm bits in between. Life's up and down, relationships are up and down. But you're still here, Sarah. You didn't leave him. You're staying to protect him, but I think deep down you're readying yourself to finally just let yourself have him. And that's why you're still here." She squeezed Sarah's arm. "And I'm here to be someone you can talk to about it until you are ready. You know I won't tell a soul. Not even that loudmouth sweetheart I'm marrying."

Sarah sniffed in amusement and nodded, everything Ellie said flooding her brain, making her feel so unfocused and out of her depth. "Thanks, Ellie. I appreciate it."

Ellie smiled. "Of course."

As they both turned back, Casey's voice came over her earpiece again. "Hey, you still there? Our foreign head of state looks like he's about to make a speech," he snarked.

"We're good, Casey. Still eyeballing the place," Chuck responded. Thankfully. She wasn't sure she could manage to respond without Ellie figuring out someone was in her ear. And she was smart enough to know that meant they were on a mission.

Sarah had half a mind to just tell her, but then it would ruin the night for Chuck's sister. She'd said in the car that she was determined to make this night _magical_ , and she'd hissed it between gritted teeth. They all got the message loud and clear, which was why none of them mentioned the mission to her.

The spotlight came on with a pop and illuminated Goya on the dance floor. As he started his inane speech, Sarah saw that Devon was making his way over to stand by his fiancée, so she switched places with him, sidling up next to Chuck.

"Why is he doing this? He's putting a target on himself?" he whispered.

"Ego," she whispered back. He widened his eyes and tilted his head in agreement.

"—And so I would like to invite...the future Mrs. Doctor Devon Woodcomb out onto the dance floor to celebrate this...unprecedented meeting of two great countries."

Chuck's eyes about popped out of his head as he spun back to the floor. Sarah spotted Ellie clinging to her fiancé's side with a vice grip. She was grinning politely but shaking her head no. It seemed Goya wouldn't be put off this time, though.

"Sarah," Chuck muttered in a sing-songy voice through a clenched jaw.

"It's okay. Just keep your eye on the crowd," she said. As long as they kept watch for the potential assassin, Ellie would be all right. Uncomfortable, apparently, with the way Goya's hands were all over her as they began to tango. Sarah thought Devon might be a little jealous this time if his furrowed brow were any indication. He then swept his blue eyes to hers and widened them, as if begging her to do something. She shrugged helplessly.

Casey's voice came over the comms again then. "Ran the database against the guest list. This guy looks like he's been arrested on Costa Gravan soil before and he's there somewhere at the consulate. Right now. Subject entered on a stolen passport. Uploading you the photo now. You get it?"

Chuck took his phone out and nodded, flashing it for Sarah to see. "He looks like a happy guy," he chirped. "We got it Casey. We're looking for him now." It took only a few seconds before Sarah felt Chuck tense beside her. "There. Sarah, I see him." She followed his gaze.

"Okay, there he is," she breathed, watching as the same man in the photo Casey'd sent them slowly weaved his way through the crowd. "Chuck, we need to get across the dance floor but if we make a move toward the Premier, the guards will shoot first, ask questions later."

"I know, I know, I know. We...Hold on." His hand clamped down on hers then. She looked up at him in question. "Follow my lead, huh?"

She nodded, not knowing what he was planning until he stepped in front of her and pulled her into his embrace. It clicked. "Good idea, Chuck," she muttered, and she was pleased to note he had the perfect form, his hands in the perfect place.

He immediately brought her around with a few steps and they paused. Chuck straightened his spine and glanced over...She followed his lead and saw that the assassin was creeping even closer to Goya and Ellie. Her heart rate sped up. "Chuck," she hissed. "I taught you how to lead, remember? Lead us closer or we won't be able to stop him."

"Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah…" He was concentrating on the steps though, still watching the assassin. And she saw him mouthing "slow, slow, quickquick, slow…"

At least he'd picked up on the extra lessons she'd given him in her room, trying to erase what Devon taught him, teaching him how to lead this time, working on his posture. He'd requested it and maybe she'd agreed because it might be fun for her, too.

And it had been. That was before it all went to shit.

Chuck surprised her then when she felt his hand clamp down onto her thigh, pulling it up to his hip and quickly dipping her. She clung to him, tightening her leg around him, and when he pulled her up, their chests crashed together, noses brushing, his hand still large and warm on the bare skin of her thigh. She felt the heat of the moment, in spite of the dangerous situation they were in.

"Chuck," she breathed.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever stupor he was in and he let go of her leg quickly. They did a few quick turns and took big steps to get them closer to Goya. Ellie caught her eye and gestured to Chuck with a 'what the fuck' look. Apparently she had no idea Chuck had gotten quite this good at the tango.

Sarah couldn't read much more into it though because the assassin was mere feet away and he was going into his pocket. "Chuck, he's behind you! Do something!"

Apparently his version of do something was to wrap one hand behind her neck and tug her in against him so that their foreheads were touching, every inch of her body pressed against his.

And then he yelled, "Olé!" and punched his arm up and out behind him, opening his fingers in a flourish. It slammed into the assassin's face and the man staggered back, crashing into a table and rolling onto the floor in a stupor.

Sarah found herself reluctant to pull away from Chuck, and she did it anyway, hurrying to the assassin to really put him out of business if he wasn't already, but Chuck seemed to have done the job well enough. Sarah saw a shirt under the suit the assassin wore and tore it open to reveal a picture of Goya's face with an X over it. She looked down at his hand, the yolk dripping from it. He'd been pulling an egg out to throw at the dictator.

"An egg?" Chuck gasped from where he stood behind her.

"Shit," she muttered, pulling her watch up. "Casey, false alarm. He was a political protestor. He was going to hit him with an egg. The assassin's still—"

"All right, that's enough, you two. Drunk and disorderly. We're escorting you both out." The guards had them in their grips and she was hoisted off of the floor.

"No, you can't!" Chuck gasped as they pulled him away. "You can't. We're protecting the Premier!"

She would kick him if he was close enough for her to actually do any damage with it. But then they were on the other side of a locked door. "Damn it!" she groused. "Casey! Do you copy? We were just kicked out for taking the protestor down. The assassin is still in there somewhere—"

Chuck grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. "Sarah, I flashed. I flashed. On our way out. One of the guards. One of the guards is the real assassin!"

"Casey, one of the guards is the assassin and Chuck and I aren't in there. The Premier is completely unprotected! You _have_ to get in there."

She heard Casey's grumble in annoyance but grabbed Chuck by his arm. They had to get back inside somehow. Or Goya was dead. And anyone else near him was in big trouble too. That meant Devon, and it especially meant Ellie.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading.

-SC and DC


	62. Chapter 62

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, and we aren't making any money from writing this story.

* * *

Chuck slammed his fist on the railing of the staircase as they hurried down into Castle. "This is my fault. If I'd just used my head…"

"This isn't your fault," Sarah said, rushing down behind him. He let her take the lead into the conference room once they got to the bottom of the stairs. "We acted on the information we were given. It was a mistake, and we all made it. Equally."

"Sarah, I should've known that guy wasn't a real threat. He wasn't in here." He tapped his temple. "He wasn't in the only database that matters, okay? The Intersect. And I should've known."

"That's ridiculous," she said, going to the controls and starting to pull Beckman up. They'd called her from the car and she requested a video call the moment they got into Castle. "He was making a move towards Goya, Chuck."

The screen flared to life then and Beckman was sitting in her usual seat at her desk, decked out in an elegant black gown. That was...different.

"General, we don't have much time," Sarah said. "Now we know Goya's men took Casey from the consulate about thirty minutes ago. On the way here, I pinpointed a few places where he might b—"

"We're going to have to wait on that, Agent Walker."

Chuck sat at the table and Sarah stepped in close behind him. "What do you mean, wait?" he asked. "General, I hate to interrupt your little cocktail party you've got going on there, but we've got a man down, here."

Beckman sighed. She looked tired, exhausted really. "I appreciate your loyalty, Agent. Make no mistake about it, Major Casey is an important part of this team…"

"Well, then storm the consulate," Chuck said, almost breaking his finger with how hard he pointed it into the table. "Get the Black-Ops in there. Who gives a damn about the Costa Gravan soil shit? That's our guy!"

"Agent—"

"He was just doing his job! We can't just let him rot in there for that, General!"

"With Casey's history with Costa Gravas and Goya in particular, I can't even imagine what they're doing to him right now," Sarah said, backing him up. He felt a flood of relief go through him. Not that he thought she wouldn't, but it was good to have back-up in this.

"Look, Agents. He's your partner. He's my best agent. I want to get him back to safety as much as you both do. Trust me." There was some worry on her face, but there was steel as well, and Chuck had a feeling this wasn't going to go in their favor at all. "We're going to do everything we can to get the major back. Using diplomatic channels."

Chuck furrowed his brow. "Diplomatic channels? General!"

"We can't risk upsetting relations with Costa Gravas, Chuck! Their country's future is in the balance. And with that goes the entire region's future as well. We need the premier to make his announcement, and until that time, the major is going to have to handle this himself. In the meantime, we're going to keep in contact with the proper people at the consulate and try to negotiate his freedom."

"Negotiate his…" Chuck turned a look of disbelief on Sarah, seeing consternation in her face. And he turned back to the general. "He's the Angel de la Muerte, General! There is no negotiation! He's a wanted man! And now they've got him!" Chuck climbed up to his feet.

"We all have our part to play, Chuck. This is something you're going to have to learn now that you're an agent with the NSA. Hard choices have to be made, and sometimes it's going to mean letting a partner handle a situation alone. That's all there is to say about it."

And she obviously meant that because she quickly slammed her finger down on the button to disconnect the call. "Can you even believe this?" Chuck groused, spinning on Sarah.

"Yes, unfortunately. I can." She leaned her hip against the table next to him and shook her head. "It happens all the time, Chuck. The premier making his announcement of allegiance is incredibly important—it's something we've been working towards for years. They aren't going to throw it out the window for one man, no matter who he is."

"Well, that's fucked." He slumped to sit on the table. "It's fucked and I can't just...I can't just stand for this. Right? We can't let them do this to Casey. It's our fault—my fault—this happened. It was my future brother-in-law who tackled him."

Casey had gone in disguised as a guard to try to stop the assassin, but before he could take the bastard out, Captain Awesome had spotted him pull a gun and, not recognizing his neighbor, he'd tackled him to the ground, knocking Casey's disguise off of his face. Of course Goya recognized him then and had his guards take the Angel de la Muerte away. Awesome received a hero's reception from everybody and Goya had announced in front of the entire room that he'd saved his life again.

Chuck imagined his future brother-in-law was now explaining what actually went on tonight to his sister. The guy wasn't great at keeping secrets from Ellie. Which was one of the reasons why he was such a great fit for her. But damn, Ellie'd be pissed at Chuck later. He just knew it.

Sarah shook her head. "General Beckman has orders from the top. And while she's right, it's important for Goya to make his announcement without incident, Casey's my partner. I'm not letting him sit in there to rot. Look, go home. Make sure everything's okay with your family. I'll work something out, okay?"

"Sarah, I can't just—" He stopped at the look on her face. Sure, they were partners, but she was still a superior in a lot of ways. And she'd made a promise to protect him. He knew sending him home was part of that, but also part of making sure his family was safe, too. Chuck also trusted Sarah more than he trusted anyone else in the entire universe, so there was that. "Okay. Fine. I'm assuming Awesome explained what we were really doing there by now and El's gonna wanna get some yelling at me in."

"I'm sure Devon feels like crap about Casey. Make sure he knows that nobody blames him. I doubt Casey even does," Sarah said. Chuck smiled a little at her and she looked away.

Nodding, he brushed past her. "Okay. Let me know if you're making a move. We're partners. I'm not letting you go into that consulate alone."

She just gave him one small head nod.

It was right as he finally dragged himself back into the courtyard of his apartment complex that Awesome rushed out of his apartment. "Chuck. Hey. I need to talk to you real quick."

"I know, I know. You told Ellie about the consulate and that we were there protecting the Premier from an assassin and now she's pissed we kept it from her. It's okay. I'm used to her getting pissed at me for stuff. We'll work it out." He was tired. He just wanted to sit down and have a drink. He also had the lingering effects from not just the flash he'd had on the assassin, but also the feeling of Sarah pressed against him, which had sincerely wrecked his focus on that dance floor. Every day he was reminded of how hard this was going to be.

"No. Bro, I—I mean, yes. Ellie's not too happy. But it could've been worse. She didn't throw anything. She just locked me out of the bathroom and is taking a shower. Safe to say I will not be getting my romantic night like I thought."

"Don't need that."

"Right, sorry. Here's the dish. The consulate contacted me. The Premier collapsed again." That sent a shock through his body and he was suddenly very awake again. "I think he must've been poisoned by the actual assassin and now he's asked for me specifically to be his doctor. Bro, I can get us back into the consulate to help John. It's my fault he's there, let me help you get him out."

Chuck frowned and looked down at Awesome's phone. "Shit. That's a good idea, let's go get Sarah. We don't have much time, come on."

}o{

Sarah had already pulled up the schematics for the Costa Gravan consulate and was gathering weapons and body armor. She'd storm the fucking place on her own to get Casey out. She knew how to get in. Getting out might be a problem, but hopefully she'd have an alive and conscious Major John Casey of the NSA at her side through that part of it.

She swung around the corner and froze at the sight of Chuck and Awesome standing at the computer. "What the hell is this, Chuck?"

He spun on her as she slammed her gear down on the table. "Sarah! Okay, we've got an—"

"You brought him here again?" she asked. "Beckman was onboard the first time, but Chuck…"

He saw she was tossing things in a duffel and he started taking them out again. She just gaped at him in annoyance. "What the hell is _this?_ " he snapped back. "What are you planning on doing, Agent Walker, huh? Storm the consulate on your own? Guns a'blazing?"

"Awesome," she heard his future brother-in-law mutter.

"I'm getting Casey out." She put everything back into the duffel and gave him a look daring him to even try to take it back out again. She'd snap his wrists. She could see by the look on his face that he knew she would. And he kept his arms at his sides.

"We're coming with you."

She shook her head. "No. You're still going through training, and there's no way in hell you're coming, Devon. What happened here, Chuck?" she asked then, meeting his gaze. "Wasn't your whole thing joining the NSA that you wanted to keep your family and friends safe? And you want to bring the guy marrying your sister into what will most likely be a war zone by the time I'm done with it?"

"Hold on. That's what I'm saying. That's what I mean. You and Casey, wanting to just kick doors in and getting yourselves shot. It doesn't have to be a war zone, Sarah. Devon thinks he has an idea to get us into the consulate. The Premier asked for him to be his own personal physician. He's collapsed again, probably poison like the first time…"

Sarah felt an idea sprout up almost immediately. Chuck was right. A war zone wasn't necessary. Just a few easy enough disguises. They could pull this off.

"Okay, here's my idea—"

"Stop right there. I'm already way ahead of you," she chirped confidently.

It took less than an hour for them to get to the gates of the consulate. Devon decked himself out in his usual white coat with scrubs underneath and Sarah had dressed herself likewise, Chuck tossing a pair of white scrubs on.

"Are you sure they're gonna believe a woman doctor? I mean, you saw the way the Premier was eyeing my fiancée, right? Not exactly the most progressive dude when it comes to equality of the sexes," Devon had said when she came out wearing her full doctor's get-up.

"He's unconscious and can go screw himself if he has a problem with it. It's the twenty-first century and my sister is the best neurosurgeon on the planet," Chuck had responded, not seeming all that put out by his role as nurse.

"Look, I know what I'm doing. You take the lead and I can follow, Devon. You can trust me as your partner in this."

They were let in easily enough, most likely informed of the doctor's imminent arrival, and as they followed behind the guards, Sarah leaned in. "You've got this, Devon. Okay? This is what you do every single day."

"You're Superman, bro," Chuck whispered, patting the blonde on his shoulder just once. Sarah thought that one might be better used on someone like Morgan. But the doctor seemed at least a little buoyed by it.

"Here, face masks. These are important." Doctor Woodcomb was there suddenly, and it was a stark contrast to the grinning man she was used to seeing. He handed out face masks.

"Right. Really completes the look," Chuck mumbled.

"No. They're literally important. Come on, bro. Focus."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek at the slight pout on Chuck's face. They were led to a bedroom where Goya was laid out on his bed, IVs attached to him, his face pale and slack. He looked like he was on death's doorstep.

"How am I supposed to work in here?" Devon demanded as the guard looked up at him. "This man needs to get to a hospital right now."

"Why?" the guard asked. "So you Americans can just kill him again? The Premier's orders were clear."

Devon was already placing his stethoscope on Goya's chest. "Acute arrhythmia. This guy is hating life right now…"

"Remember, Doctor Woodcomb. If the Premier doesn't—"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time. I got it. Just step back so my team and I can get to work."

That shut the asshole up good and she smiled a little behind the face mask she'd slipped over her mouth and nose.

"Okay, he's in a lot of trouble. Same as last time, insulin seemed to help, so I'm gonna need ten units stat, nurse." Chuck spun from where he was setting everything up on the medical tray. Sarah cleared her throat to divert the guards' attention to her as Devon mouthed what Chuck was looking for to him.

Chuck didn't seem to know if it was on the tray already or in the bag, so Sarah turned and handed Chuck the clipboard. "Hold that. I'll give the Premier the insulin." She gave Chuck a significant look over her glasses and stepped away. Devon's medical bag was on the table near the two guards. She caught their eyes and gave them each a bit of a smile, diverting their attention from Chuck and Devon again.

All she had to do was take out two guards, which was easy enough. Devon could stay with his patient. She and Chuck would go get Casey out of this place. She found the insulin easy enough and rolled the nearby tray a little closer to the guards, pulling her glasses a bit down her nose as if looking for the right angle to read the label.

Then she brought her hand down and knocked the contents of the tray onto the floor. "Oops!" she chirped as one of the guards smirked and knelt down to help her pick everything up. She swung her foot and made direct contact with his face, immediately spinning to jam her elbow into the second guard's nose. She caught the barrel of his submachine gun against her hip so that he couldn't use it and ripped it away from him, then brought it around to crack it into the first guard's face as he clambered up to his feet again.

She made quick work of both of them, finally landing a critical roundhouse kick to one of them and turning to the guard still on his knees, slamming his own gun down into his face.

Agent Walker blew a bit of hair out of her face, propped the submachine gun on her hip, and turned on her heel to face her current partners as if what she'd just done was as easy as blowing the candles out on a birthday cake. "Let's go," she said, pulling her glasses off and tossing them to the side.

"That is some woman, bro," she heard Devon say.

"You have _no idea_."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she hit the doorway of the room and looked right and left to make sure they had a clear path.

Chuck was right on her heels as she led him through the consulate. The schematics she'd studied would lead her right down into the underbelly of the building where she was sure they'd keep someone if they planned on torturing him.

And as they finally hit the staircase down into the room, she heard Casey's voice and a gunshot.

"Angel de la Muerte!" the guard at the door gasped, but she rushed the stairs two at a time and bashed the submachine gun she was carrying into his face, knocking him out cold before he could get another bullet off.

As she and Chuck spilled into the room, Casey growled, holding his leg. Shit, he had been shot. But he was alive. So far.

"Let's get outta here," he panted.

"First we gotta get Awesome," Chuck said, and Casey gave him a _what the fuck_ look.

"You brought your sister's fiancé to this shitshow?!"

"Come on," she interrupted, rushing into the room and helping Casey hobble out of there. "Chuck, you help him. I'll take point."

It took them another few minutes with how slow Casey was moving, but they got back to the bedroom where Devon was still trying to save the Premier. She burst the door open. "Devon, we have to get out of here. Now."

" _You_ have to get out of here. Those guards are looking for you. All of you. And they're gonna kill you if they find you. I can't leave. He'll die without me here taking care of him."

"Yeah, well we're all gonna die if we stay here," Chuck panicked. "Look, Awesome, we've gotten Casey, we're good. Mission over."

"Sorry, Chuck," Devon said, his face grave as he continued to work. "My mission's not over."

"The hell?" Casey groused. "What do you care if this bastard lives or dies? He's a tyrant. You know how many people he's killed to get where he is now?"

"You're one to talk, Angel de la Muerte." They spun as guards spilled into the room, guns up, ready to shoot at the slightest provocation.

Chuck piped up quickly. "He isn't here as the Angel of Death right now, okay? He's here to protect your boss. We all are. The real assassin who's been trying to kill him this whole time is down in that cell."

"We just came from there and no one is in that cell," the guard growled.

Casey grunted, and then he tipped like a redwood that had been chopped down, hitting the floor with a loud thump.

"He's bleeding to death!" Chuck yelled. "We have to get him to a doctor! Please!"

"Oh but he has a doctor, doesn't he?" the guard asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, I'm a little busy here," Devon groused.

"Not you. Her." The guard turned to Sarah then.

"What her? Her her?" Chuck asked, starting to panic a bit. The corner of Sarah's mouth twitched.

"If you really are a doctor, señorita, and not an assassin…" Her eyes flicked to the two guards sporting bruises and gashes on their faces, looking woozy and shaken up behind their superior, but still able to hold their guns up unfortunately. She understood his implication. She was a doctor who'd just kicked two of his men's asses. "Then you can save your friend's life, no?"

"No. I-I mean yes. Yes. Of course she can...Right? Right? You can." Chuck gulped as he stared at her.

She pointed to the guards. "You two, lift that man up and bring him in here." She watched them hoist Casey off of the floor and led them through the doorway to the next room over, laying him out on a chaise lounge. "Perfect. Nurse. I'll need your help, please."

Chuck was there, giving her an unsure look as he knelt down next to Casey, following her lead. She handed him a pair of gloves, then slipped her own on. She'd pulled bullets out of her own leg before. She could do it for someone else. Easy.

"Right, so—so, uh, what's first, doctor?"

"Anesthesia, nurse."

"No!" the guard snapped, gesturing to another of his men who lifted his gun and pointed it at them. "No anesthesia."

Casey looked up at her in terror as another guard walked up and jammed something between his teeth. _Sorry, big guy…_ she tried to say with a look. He grunted in fear behind the knife holster jammed in his mouth.

"Okay, okay. Okay. No anesthesia. We can do no anesthesia. You've done this millions of times without anesthesia, doctor. Yep. You're a big tough guy, right C—"

Sarah shut Chuck up with an elbow to his rib. He wasn't even the one with the bullet in his leg and he was spiraling.

"The bullet might've grazed his femoral artery. Whatever you do—!"

"Ah ah!" the guard cut Devon off from where he was instructing them in the other room. "I think Doctor Señorita knows what to do. Don't you, bonita?"

She ignored him. "Nurse, cut those pants open for me so I can see the wound."

Chuck grabbed scissors out of the bag he'd brought with him and reached over to slice up the leg of Casey's pants, opening them up to reveal the wound gushing blood just over his knee and on the outside of his left thigh.

She'd done this before but not with a nurse and not with so many tools at her disposal. She had to make it look professional.

"Sarah, you have the hands of a surgeon," Devon piped up from the other room. Chuck looked queasy as he gaped at the wound, like he might sway a little, or even faint. That would ruin everything.

"Can we open up a window or something?" she asked. "It's hot in here and I'm struggling to concentrate."

"No. We can't. Just do the work, doctor. Or I'll put a bullet in both of you right now to match his. Only yours will be in the back of your head."

Chuck sent a glare over his shoulder at the guard, but she just shook herself and licked her lips.

"You can do this, Sarah," he breathed then. "You can do anything. There's a reason why you're the doctor and I'm the nurse in this situation, okay? It's all you."

She nodded and took another deep breath. "Nurse, hand me the suction," she said then. She needed to see what she'd be doing after all. She was about to take this bullet out of a wound that was still bleeding. "And the scalpel."

"Right away, doctor."

She worked fast, and when she spotted the bullet in his leg finally, she thrust her hand out towards Chuck. "Tweezers. I see it."

Casey's eyes were rolling in pain and he was growling awfully. She ignored it. She'd done this before. In a much worse setting. And to herself. She had to keep reminding herself.

Digging the tweezers into Casey's leg, she felt the metallic clink between her tweezers and closed them, pulling the bullet out and dropped it into the pan Chuck held close for her. "Got it."

She was too relieved to get too caught up in the proud grin Chuck turned on her. And as exhausted and wrecked as Casey looked, he seemed relieved as well.

But then a loud beeping came from the other room.

They all spun as the guard stomped back into the bedroom demanding to know what was going on.

"I already told all of you that I couldn't do much for him here. I need him at a damn hospital!" Devon snapped. He reached over to inject something into the Premier. "He's going to die without a blood transfusion. And I don't even know what type blood he has!"

"AB negative."

They all turned back to Casey who looked dizzy and very out of it. "What?" she asked.

"Hiz blood type. Iz AB negative."

"How do you know that?" Chuck asked.

"I lived in 'iz walls for a very long time an' learned a lot about 'im. Like thez thingz I will lizt for you right now: Hiz blood type? AB negative. Fav'it movie? Terms of Endearment. He always showerz af'er he haz sex."

"All right, enough of that, thanks," Chuck muttered.

"Look, none of those things help me unless we get someone in here with a blood type of AB negative," Devon cut in. "Is anybody here AB negative?" He repeated it again in Spanish, then added. "It needs to be someone big."

Sarah watched as Chuck reached out and grabbed Casey's dog tags that were sticking out of his collar.

"Ey! Give 'em! Give 'oz back!"

She saw it right along with Chuck and they exchanged a look. Oh boy, Casey was not going to be happy.

"No! I swear to God, iv you take e'en a drop o' my blood to save 'at piece of sh—DON'T YOU DARE!"

But Chuck had already fixed the mask over his face and was knocking the NSA agent out. "I'm really sorry, buddy. But it needs to be done."

And just like that, he was out.

}o{

Chuck nearly collapsed after getting Casey into his chair. Sarah had helped him but with the wires attached to the bag and everything else the poor guy was hooked up to, he wasn't all that sure Sarah had helped much. He grumbled inwardly a little at her for it.

He straightened and felt a few pops in his back, cursing under his breath. And then he watched as Sarah walked back behind the chair to straighten Casey's head from where it had slumped forward. "You wanna connect us to Beckman?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

She'd since shirked the Orange Orange sweatshirt, just in the tank and white capris, moving around the conference room in bright orange Converse with the sky blue laces, blowing her hair out of her face as she made sure nothing had disconnected from Casey during the move from the cot he'd been out cold in the last few hours to the chair.

Chuck swallowed hard and turned away from her, going to the panel to call Beckman. But then he stopped, and he spun on his heel to face her again. "Sarah."

She glanced over her shoulder at him and must have noticed the look on his face because she stood to her full height and faced him. "What is it, Chuck? Is it not working?"

"No. Nah, it's—I mean, it's working. I just…" He licked his lips and looked off to the side, wringing his hands in front of him, before he looked at her again. "You saved Casey's life. And you saved the rest of our lives, you know? You, uh, came through. Big time. Taking the bullet out of Casey's leg? That was seriously amazing. And I just needed you to know that. I needed you to hear it from...somebody."

Sarah blinked at him, looking a bit surprised. And then she smiled a little. "Thank you, Chuck. I've, uh, done it before."

It was yet another reminder of the life he'd chosen. How many people had Sarah had to pull a bullet out of? Would he have to do the same someday? He'd almost had to today. He would've had to if Sarah hadn't been there. And _that_ was a reminder of just how lucky he was that his decision to join the NSA hadn't prompted Sarah to leave the team for good. She could have. And he wouldn't have blamed her.

Chuck found himself just looking at her. He had more to say, he just didn't know what. He was just glad she was here. He was glad he had her on his team.

"Uh, Chuck…? Beckman."

He shook himself. "Right. Right, yes. I'm just gonna...get Beckman."

He could feel Sarah's eyes on him as he turned back around and put in the call. While they waited, he went back to Casey and leaned down with his face close to the older man's. "Think he's comin' to," he muttered and he felt Sarah come up and stand behind him.

The NSA agent grunted then and a raspy groan came out of him as he blinked his eyes open slowly. Chuck snapped a little near his face to speed up the process.

When a smile swept over the other man's face, Chuck immediately knew Casey had maybe gotten a little too big of a dose of that gas he'd used to knock him out. "Ohhh hehehe hey Chuckie…" Casey chirped, and Chuck raised his eyebrows in surprise, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from showing too much amusement. "Ugh I feel like death," he groaned, the smile dying. "What happened?"

Chuck felt Sarah shift behind him as the monitor beeped, and he looked behind him as she said, "You're just in time, big boy." She reached back and turned on the screen, revealing Beckman at her desk.

He had to turn on his heel and straighten up to see her as she immediately dove in without pretense.

"Congratulations, team. That was excellent work, and the Premier made a full recovery. Whatever the hell went on in that embassy—I don't need to know. Really. I don't," she said, holding up a hand as Chuck moved to explain. He shut his mouth so quick his teeth audibly clicked. "Whatever it was, you saved his life, and he was able to make his announcement as planned. Costa Gravas is, as we speak, preparing to have their first democratic election." Beckman looked at Casey in particular then. "None of this would have happened without your extraordinary sacrifice, Major Casey."

Chuck pursed his lips and widened his eyes as he heard the confused grunt from Casey. Then he looked down at the bandage wrapped around his leg wound.

"Oh. Yeah, I got shot but that's nothin' extraordinary, General."

Beckman looked tired suddenly as she sighed heavily, and Chuck turned from where he leaned against the desk to exchange a look with Sarah. It was more like a wince to her slight smirk.

She cleared her throat daintily. "You, uh...don't remember, Casey?"

Chuck mouthed _Isnay on the…_ but she was studiously ignoring him, damn it.

"What d'you mean? Remember what?" He looked around at both of them. Chuck felt a permanent wince on his face.

"The, uh, generous donation?" Sarah asked in a smooth voice.

"Dona—?" He froze and then slowly turned to look at Chuck. The NSA trainee figured he was dead as a red curtain of rage swept over Casey's face. "You stole my blood," he growled through a clenched jaw. "You knocked me out," he snarled, and then he glanced at Sarah, "and you took my blood and put it in a stinking commie despot."

"Former!" Chuck clarified. "He's a former stinking commie despot." His grin was very toothy.

"I'm going to murder you in your sl—"

"Major Casey," General Beckman interceded, clearing her throat. He sat at attention, looking only a little contrite. "You can murder Agent Carmichael later. Let's stay on task." Chuck did a double take and he thought he heard Sarah choke a giggle back. "The Premier wanted to thank you personally, but it was imperative he returned to Costa Gravas immediately."

"This will have to do," Sarah said, moving to grab the box of cigars and the note Goya had written the man he'd insisted on calling "The Angel of Life" once he'd come to in his bed at the embassy. She slid it onto Casey's lap and fell in beside Chuck, leaning against the desk he sat on, her hip close to his he couldn't help noticing.

They watched Casey enjoy his cigars for a few moments, read his note, and drop it on the ground in disgust.

Beckman soon signed off with another congratulations and left the three of them alone in Castle again.

"So, uh, now that you've got your cigars, buddy, you feel better about the whole blood thing, right?" Chuck asked. Casey did a semi-Exorcist head turn with a growl, fixing him with hate-eyes, and Chuck pushed off of the desk. "Well, I've gotta go. Got things to do. Be well, Casey. Sarah."

And he rushed out of the room altogether, leaving an amused Sarah Walker and enraged John Casey in his wake.

It took him a minute or so to ascend the staircase and push his way through the Castle exit into the Orange Orange storefront. But just as he was walking around the frozen yogurt counter, he spotted his future brother-in-law peering in through the glass door. He rapped on it with his knuckles, made eye contact with Chuck, and smiled a little.

Concerned, Chuck hurried to the door and glanced over his shoulder to see that nobody had followed him. So he unlocked and opened the door for Awesome to come in.

"Hey," Awesome breathed as he stepped in. He looked a little tired and rundown, but there was something else in his face. Adrenaline maybe? Maybe it was just the last dredges of adrenaline still leftover from earlier.

"Hey, man," Chuck chirped. "What's going on?"

"Just wondering how it went with headquarters," he said.

Chuck studied his face and narrowed his eyes a bit dubiously. "Are you, uh, wondering if Beckman gave us a new mission, Captain? Because, uh…" Chuck shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's a no go. You did your job, man. You're to be commended, too, but…" How did he tell his sister's fiancé to stay the hell out of the spy life because Ellie was already struggling with one of the men in her life being involved.

"Oh, hey no. Dude." Awesome stuck his hand out and shook his head seriously, one eyebrow raised. "You kidding? I definitely scratched my espionage itch. Haven't had that many guns in my face since we had a rodeo themed party in my frat house junior year at UCLA."

"There are so many implications with that and I don't really want to know."

"Ahh!" Awesome pointed at him with a grin. "Don't get me wrong, bro. Black tie dinners and embassy extractions are awesome. It's just not worth it, though."

"What's not?" Chuck asked, confused.

"I dunno, man. This whole leading a double life thing. Just being there tonight and not telling Ellie what was really going down? That we were protecting the Premier from an assassin? That was hard. It sucked. I hated it. You did it for months on end, bro, and I couldn't even handle a few hours." He shook his head. "And then there's you and Sarah. Dude, all these months I thought you two were…" He drifted off but the way he wiggled his eyebrows left nothing to the imagination. Chuck just pressed his lips together and sighed, hanging his head a bit. "And you weren't. Now you're really working together, as spies side by side fighting crime…"

"That's...That's more like… private eyes…"

"Oh. Right. Same diff." Chuck made a doubtful face. "The point is, you're stronger than me, dude. I couldn't put aside something I really, really want...not even for the glamorous spy life, not even if I got to be James Bond. I couldn't put aside being with Ellie for this. Even if it meant saving the world."

Chuck felt that last bit hit him right in the chest, but then the door to Castle slammed shut and Sarah appeared, halting a little as she spotted them standing near the Orange Orange exit. Awesome turned and smiled at her.

"Well, I gotta run. I need to finish a few things up at the hospital, and then I am going home to Ellie to pour her many glasses of wine before I tell her literally everything and then maybe or maybe not sleep on the couch tonight." He gave a pained look at both of them.

"Sorry, Devon," Sarah drawled, an apologetic look on her face, even as she smiled in amusement.

"Hey, I saved the world. In a sense." He grinned and clapped Chuck on the back. "You two take care of each other, huh?"

He was gone then, disappearing into the dark parking lot. And leaving Chuck alone in the Orange Orange with Sarah. He cleared his throat and turned back. "I think he's gonna be fine."

She raised her eyebrows and nodded, crossing her arms as she stopped in front of him. "He would've made a pretty great spy," she joked, and he sniffed in amusement, grinning and nodding.

"There's probably only room for one spy in this family. And anyway, this isn't what he wants."

"What?" she asked, tilting her head and furrowing her brow curiously.

"Being a spy. If he'd been in my shoes, he wouldn't have made the same decision that I made." What Awesome said hadn't felt like a dig on him or on his decision. He was just honestly voicing his realization that as "glamorous" as all of this had seemed, he already had something better. Something that meant more to him. "He's already a superhero. That's better than being a spy."

That made her smile and shake her head. "Nerd."

"That's truuuue," he drawled, sticking his hands in his pockets again.

Awesome's words came back to him. Had he chosen saving the world over the one thing he wanted more than everything else? Was that what he'd done? No. It wasn't just saving the world. He'd wanted this. He'd let himself think he could have this if he joined the NSA. Agent Sarah Walker, his partner, teammate...and more. He'd seen the chance to be with the woman he loved on that path, and he'd clambered towards that path so recklessly and desperately that he'd tripped on his own damn feet, crashing right onto his face. And now he wasn't sure what was on this path. He wasn't sure he still had that chance.

What he did know was that he couldn't just accept it without trying. He had to try. That didn't mean taking her in his arms right here in the middle of the frozen yogurt shop the way he wanted to. But maybe he could start with an olive branch of sorts.

"Hey, so… I actually have a question for you, if that's okay." He tilted his torso to the side a bit and narrowed his eyes.

"Sure." She shifted her weight slightly, and he figured she was probably nervous about what he was about to ask. He couldn't deny, it hurt him a little. But he covered it with a small smile.

"I was actually thinkin' about this the other night when...when we were, uh, on the dance floor. Um. Well, you taught me how to dance the actual lead part of the tango, which I appreciate." She smirked a little. "I was hoping, you know, since we're doin' this, since I- _I'm_ doing this, you might sort of...teach me some things." She dropped her gaze a bit, not looking displeased exactly, but looking rather surprised he thought. When she didn't respond, he continued, pulling his hand out of his pocket to gesture as he spoke. "Casey has been teaching me some stuff with a bō," he said, getting into pose and whipping an invisible bo back and forth with his own version of Bruce Lee fighting sounds. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "And some hand to hand stuff. But ya know, he got shot. And he can't do that anymore. At least not for a while. So I thought I'd ask you if you could teach me some things in the interim."

Sarah arched her eyebrow. "Wow, Chuck. Casey has to get shot before you ask me to run your fight training. I see how it is."

She'd surprised him with that. And he laughed out loud, rocking forward a bit. "I'm very sorry. I should've come to you first. He's actually very mean, if I'm bein' fully honest with you." She snorted and giggled a bit. "I thought he called me a moron too much before, but sometimes when I'm in the middle of Casey Training, I find myself wondering if my name is actually 'Moron' and not Chuck."

She sniffed in amusement and shook her head.

And then he swallowed, sobering up a little. "The truth is, Sarah… You weren't, uh, you weren't really here when I first joined the NSA. And I get it," he rushed, holding his hand out when she looked like she might go on the offensive for a moment. "I get why. I don't blame you for that, not even a little bit. But that's why Casey did my training. And now that you're here, I'm really glad, I'm so glad you're here… But I haven't asked you to train me before now because…" He didn't know how to really phrase it.

"Because I've been so pissed at you?" Yep. That was it. He puffed out his cheeks and shrugged, nodding. But she smiled, just the very edges up her lips turning up. "I'll help you train, Chuck." She sighed then. "We'll see what we can do with...this." She gestured up and down his body, making a face and crossing her arms again.

Chuck cackled. "Ooooh. Wow. Wow, okay. Listen, I'm no Captain Awesome, but I've been working on the weights and I'll have you know, I'm a master at pull-ups now."

She grinned, and he was endlessly relieved to see a light shining in her blue eyes too. "I'll believe it when I see it," she teased.

"Okay, fine. Fine. We can start tonight. Right now. You follow me back to my place, we'll do one hour of classic Super Contra on my vintage collector's NES Nintendo gaming system, pause it because there were no saves back in the old days, Agent Walker—oh ho ho no there were not—and then we will have a pull-up competition. Loser has to down two of Morgan's grape sodas in the fridge."

She laughed. "Uhhh...I don't think that's the kind of training I'm thinking of."

"Too soon for that, huh?" She shrugged, amused. "Yeah, maybe you're right." They grinned at one another and he thrust his hand out towards her. "So...you're gonna help me with fight training?"

She glanced down at his hand, lifting one shoulder and pursing her lips a bit shyly. And then she raised an eyebrow and met his gaze, taking his hand. "Yeah. I'll help you, Chuck. You made your choice." She kept hold of his hand, and his gaze. "This is what you want. To be a spy. And I'm going to do whatever I can to help you be the best spy you can be."

He squeezed her hand and felt something pass between them in that moment. It was a truce, but more than that, there was warmth there. Still. There was a lot there still. And he thought she knew it, too. Maybe she was somewhere on that path after all. He didn't know how far down she was, but that didn't matter. He'd find her.

}o{

It was nearing midnight when he heard the knock on his apartment door. He paused his video game and set the controller on the coffee table, climbing to his feet and stepping around the couch.

He wondered what it was now. Had Morgan had a bad day? Maybe Awesome locked himself out... Or was it another mission? If it was a mission, why hadn't they just texted him to meet them at Casey's?

Crossing to the front door, Chuck opened it, a little surprised to see Sarah standing there in spite of thinking it might be another mission. He couldn't read the look on her face at first and he smiled. "Hey. Did you change your mind about tonight?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice as he leaned against the doorjamb.

But she didn't smile or smirk. There was no shy twist of her lips to the side.

He straightened to his full height, alarm bells going off inside of him at how serious the look was on her face. It hadn't budged. Something had happened. "What?" he asked breathlessly. And his legs brought him over the threshold and further into the courtyard to stand in front of her. "What happened? Sarah…"

She took a step close to him and went up on her tiptoes. Her lips brushed his ear as she held onto his shoulders. "It's Devon. He's missing."

Chuck felt ice shoot through his veins. He turned his head to look down at her. She was worried. Afraid. That more than anything shook him to his core as he looked down at the ground beneath his feet, not sure what to do. He was numb, aching. He was terrified.

Sarah immediately wrapped her arms around him, cradling him tightly.

"Oh my God," he breathed, numbly rounding her torso with his own arms to hug her back. He clung to her, and he kept clinging.

She squeezed him even tighter.

His future brother-in-law was gone. They had to get him back.

* * *

 **A/N:** A breakthrough! More soon!

-SC and DC


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N:** *Ahem* ISH

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own the thing. We aren't making money.

* * *

"Chuck, stop freaking out," Casey said, flipping through files.

"I'm not freaking out," Chuck replied even as he paced back and forth in Castle's conference room. He felt her eyes on him but he couldn't deal with that at the moment. He didn't need this. "I'll tell you why I'm not freaking out, because that would require me to be overreacting." He took a breath and plowed ahead. "I don't think it's possible to overreact to my future brother-in-law being kidnapped!"

"We're doing the best we can, Chuck," Casey said, looking him in the eye. "I get it, they have your loved one, and I know what family means to you." Casey reached down, grabbed a file, and shoved it into Chuck's chest. "Here, see if you flash on this." Chuck gave Casey a glare, took the file, and glanced through it. He looked back up at Casey, the worry evident on his face.

"Casey..." Chuck began.

"It's okay," Sarah said, standing up, walking over to him, and placing a hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him. If it wasn't for Devon, he'd take time to study her face, the concern on it, but right now he could only think of Devon. "Chuck, go to work. I promise I'll come get you as soon as I have some news." Chuck looked at the monitor of Ellie pacing back and forth outside of her apartment, and he shook his head.

"Look at that," he said to both of them, not even trying to hide the despair in his voice. "She's called him…" he shrugged,"hundreds of times, and not to mention the twenty to me she's made. She's losing it. I gotta tell her."

"Honestly, Chuck, the best thing you can do is to just calm down," Sarah said.

Chuck spun on her. "Do you know in the history of mankind, telling someone to calm down has NEVER worked?!" Chuck's eyes widened. He had just snapped at Sarah Walker, and she didn't deserve that, regardless of what was going on between them. "I'm sorry, that was wrong of me, I'm…"

She pulled him into a hug, surprising him a little. "I get it," she said, and he felt himself blowing out a breath. She pulled back, and put her hands on his biceps, holding his gaze. If he didn't know better... "I need you to go to work."

"I gotta tell Ellie," Chuck replied. "If I don't—"

"Chuck, trust me," she said. There was a look in her eyes that he hadn't seen as much lately as he had before the date. It was reassuring. "We will find him."

"I'm sorry, I can't flash, I can't help…"

"We'll fix it," Sarah said softly. Chuck started to speak, and then stopped. She knew what he was about to say. "I promise." He held her eyes for a moment, gave a resigned sigh, nodded, and left for the Buy More. He didn't know if there was any way to ever fix this.

}o{

Casey watched Chuck leave and spun his wheelchair toward her. "What are you doing to that kid?" Sarah stared at him. "We'll _fix_ it?! You know what in the hell he thinks that means!"

"Casey..." she began, and she shook her head. This wasn't the time or place for that discussion. Hell, she wasn't sure what to say or how to deal with what she felt, but there was feeling. There was no sense in denying that any longer. "It's time, Casey."

"For you two to mix your peanut butter and chocolate?" Casey asked. She glared at him. Ellie had messed her up at the gala, and she didn't like how she felt. No, that was wrong. She didn't know what to do about how she felt. "Walker, whatever the hell it is, do it."

"Whatever?" she asked, knowing Casey had no idea what he was about to get himself into.

"I don't like the sound of that, but what in the hell could you possibly do that might make this worse?"

Sarah didn't answer. She simply activated the monitor.

"Sarah, Casey," Beckman said as a way of greeting. "Any good news on our missing doctor?"

"No, General, and it has gotten worse," Sarah began. Beckman's brow furrowed. "Chuck isn't flashing."

"Oh, boy," Beckman muttered.

"It gets worse," Sarah continued. "Chuck… Chuck wants to tell Ellie about Devon being missing."

"Oh God, no," Beckman muttered. "That's the worst idea possible. Tell me you have an idea Sarah. Have you...talked to him?"

"General..." Sarah tried.

"I get it, Sarah, I do, but, if Ellie Bartowski finds out her future husband is missing because of this project…" Beckman never finished the sentence but the gulp was all that was needed. "Do you have any ideas to get out of this mess?"

"One," Sarah replied. "And I'm not sure telling Ellie the truth wouldn't be the preferred choice of the two."

"What the hell could be worse than that, Walker?" Casey butted in.

She turned and looked him in the eye. "Morgan."

"OH CHRIST NO!" Casey yelled.

"Casey, he's the one person Chuck can talk to about this." Sarah paused. She hated to do this, it was dirty pool, but… "It may be just what Chuck needs to flash."

Both Beckman's and Casey's faces turned thoughtful.

"General," Casey said, "this is a very bad idea."

"Do _you_ have a better way to get the Intersect working again?" Beckman asked.

"Walker might," Casey said, earning a glare from both women. He sighed. "No, General, but telling his sister and her fiancé is one thing, but the bearded gnome?"

"Hey, that bearded gnome is a good guy," Sarah said, getting looks from both of them. She straightened, and cleared her throat, realizing what she said. "And there is no one on this planet more loyal to Chuck Bartowski than Morgan Grimes."

"No one?" Casey asked, implications all over those words.

Sarah looked him straight in the eye. "No one."

Casey straightened, turned back to Beckman, and nodded. "Fine, but he does it." Both Sarah and Beckman watched Casey. "Chuck tells the beard."

}o{

"BARTOWSKI! GRIMES!" Chuck and Morgan both looked up, surprised. Emmett seemed pleased. Why, Chuck had no idea, other than he might be pleased that Big Mike wasn't currently yelling at him. "I just got a call from the head of the Orange Orange franchise, some lady named Beckman, really bossy," Big Mike said.

"You don't say," Chuck replied, glancing over at Casey. Casey gave him a look and Chuck refocused on Big Mike.

"You two are to go over to the new Orange Orange and ask new owner how we can lend a helping hand," Big Mike continued.

"Uh, sir, I'm a green shirt," Morgan began.

"Grimes, she's paying for your ass so you'll go," Big Mike said with a pointed look.

"So long as you got top dollar for me," Morgan muttered. Big Mike left and the two headed out the door. "What's going on?"

"You know as much as I do, Buddy, you know as much as I do." Chuck was in deep thought walking across the parking lot as Morgan went on and on about why McDonalds had the best pickles for sandwiches. As Chuck approached the Orange Orange door, it opened, and there stood Sarah.

"I can trust you, right?" Sarah asked, squinting at them.

"That's a weird thing to ask your boyfriend," Morgan said, grinning. Chuck gave Morgan a look. "Wait…" He turned back to Sarah and widened his eyes. "Me? You're asking me?" Chuck nodded and so did Sarah. "Of course you can trust me, we're best buds." Sarah sent Chuck a glance, her expression troubled.

"Sarah, what is going on?" Chuck asked.

She looked him right in the eye.

"Chuck, trust me," she replied.

"I do," Chuck answered. "I need you to know I really do." She nodded, and the look on her face was unreadable. She looked back at Morgan.

"We are trusting you with something huge," she said to Morgan. "You are the only person that can help, Morgan Grimes, and we need you to understand what a massive deal this is." She paused, and looked over at Chuck. "It's to help your best friend." She paused again, and took a deep breath. "Help me, Morgan Grimes, you're my only hope."

Morgan did his best wookiee call and Chuck rolled his eyes. Sarah smiled and brought Morgan inside. She stood there, waiting for Chuck. "You coming?"

"Didn't know if I was invited," Chuck admitted. She held the door open and he stepped inside.

"Okay, what is your yogurt emergency?" Morgan asked.

"Betsy," Sarah said. Betsy nodded, hit seven buttons on the cash register and shades slipped down over the Orange Orange's windows.

"Betsy," Morgan chuckled. "Too bad her last name isn't Braddock." Chuck glanced at Morgan, but refused to speak.

"Betsy, let no one in. I'm taking these two to the back room," Sarah said, leading them behind the Yogurt and Fun door.

"That's...That's a lot of guns," Morgan muttered seeing Casey's arsenal. "What the—Ooo! Nice TV." Beckman popped on the screen. "Yikes!" Beckman glared at Morgan.

"Morgan Grimes, meet General Beckman of the NSA," Sarah said.

"NSA?" Morgan asked. "National sundae...with almonds?"

"National Security Agency, Buddy," Chuck explained. Morgan looked at him. "Yeah, it's the real deal."

"I knew this day would come," Morgan said softly, in awe. "I've been preparing my whole life." Sarah looked over at Chuck. Morgan was staring off into space, his eyes glistening. Chuck lightly shook his head. "I KNEW one day, they would come for me—"

"We do NOT want you to be a spy, Mr. Grimes!" Beckman said pulling him out of his trancelike state. "God, no."

"I knew that," Morgan said, trying to mask his disappointment. "It's about Area 51, isn't it?"

"No, it's about one of our agents who needs your help," Beckman explained. "Will you help us?"

"Danger is my middle name," Morgan replied, standing as tall as he could.

"You won't even be leaving this building," Beckman informed him flatly.

"Oh, thank God!" Morgan said blowing out a breath. "I mean, I'm willing to give my life for my country but...wait…" He looked at Chuck and Sarah. "What...these two… What's going on?"

"You already know Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA," Beckman began. Morgan looked over at her, studied her for a long minute...and his features cleared as he held out a fist for a bump. Sarah grinned at him, and gave him a fist bump.

But then his eyes widened in realization and he turned toward his best friend of many years.

"The problem we seem to be having is with the NSA's newest member," Beckman said.

Morgan's jaw dropped at first, and then it slowly grew into a smile filled with unadulterated awe and glee.

"Chuck Bartowski." Without any warning, Morgan launched himself at Chuck, hugging him tight. "Will you help us?" Beckman asked.

"Will I help you?" Morgan asked, letting go of Chuck and gesturing with his whole body. "Will I help you? My best bud? His girl? Will—"

"Mr. Bartowski and Miss Walker's relationship is only a cover," Beckman informed Morgan.

"Is that part of the problem?" Morgan asked, ignoring Sarah and Chuck. Beckman pressed her lips together. "Okay, I get it. I totally get it. I will take care of him. I thought I taught him better than that." Chuck saw Sarah's mouth fall open. Beckman looked amused. "I am so sorry, General, he knows better than to be so...well, Chuck. And after Jill dumped him, he had so many ladies, all of 'em wanting to get with the Chuckster. I had to inform them that he wasn't available emotionally." Morgan turned to Chuck as the latter tried to figure out how it would help anything if he murdered him on the spot. "Dude, Sarah is my friend, you can't do her dirty like that! You can't just open up people and their feelings and just leave them high and dry."

"Morgan, I don't think you understand," Sarah said, trying to cut in.

"Sarah, it's okay. I've got both of your backs. But sometimes that means hard truths. Chuck isn't responsible for how much charm he exudes, you know? Some days he doesn't even realize it's happening," Morgan said, trying to comfort her.

Sarah was stunned speechless. Chuck was half ready to murder Morgan, the other half just numb with embarrassment.

"It's okay, you're here with friends and we're gonna straighten this all out." He paused and grinned at her. "We'll get him to take you on some dates. I won't even have to be there for some of them."

"Mr. Grimes, I think you have it all wrong," Beckman said, trying to interrupt.

"How?" Morgan asked. "She's got it bad for my dude." He reached over to pat Chuck on the chest and Chuck thought maybe he'd twist his arm off. He just barely held back.

"Mr. Grimes, she's a trained professional."

"General B, I mean this in the nicest way possible. If the way she feels about him is an act, she needs to quit spying and move to Hollywood immediately. There are so many roles she could dominate." He spun to her. "What if you were the first female James Bond?" Sarah started to answer. "No, no, you're right. Wonder Woman?" Sarah again tried to answer. "What if—"

Chuck laid his hand on Morgan's shoulder, eager to just end this. For everyone's sake. Mostly his own.

"Morgan, she doesn't feel that way about me. Please stop. She's a spy," Chuck said quietly, and he let himself take a quick glance at her. He didn't agree with her assessment of herself, but she didn't need that right now, especially not from Morgan. "And they really need you to just listen right now, Buddy."

Morgan stared at his friend for a minute, gave him a single nod and turned toward Beckman. Chuck watched as Morgan straightened his spine. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to do something you're apparently quite good at, by...most accounts. I need you to be his friend and listen to his story," Beckman said. "Chuck, take him downstairs, tell him everything. Whatever you need to tell him to get the Intersect working again. We need you to flash."

Chuck's eyes widened. So that was what all of this was. That was why they'd brought Morgan in on this. It was… in a word, genius. And he could hug all of them for trusting him, for trusting Morgan.

"Yes, General," Chuck replied. "Come on, Buddy, secret base time." With that he headed out the door.

"Yes!" Morgan said, doing a fist pump following behind leaving Sarah and the General in the room by themselves.

}o{

Chuck led Morgan downstairs to the conference table. Chuck was a little surprised his friend was not freaking out about all of the cool things lying around, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Morgan listened as Chuck told the whole story, and how he got the Intersect, most of what had happened after he'd gotten the Intersect. He left out the romance with Sarah, especially the lack thereof currently.

"So, I guess I told you everything. That's it. That's my story."

"Really?" Morgan asked, his eyebrow raised. "Chuck, didn't you just tell me that your emotions affect the Intersect?" Chuck nodded. "Well, we both know why you're not flashing. It isn't just that you didn't have anybody to talk to."

"Right, because they have Awesome," Chuck replied, thrusting his hand out in the general direction of they.

Morgan put his head in his hands. "Oh, I pray I'm not too late."

"Too late for what?" Chuck asked. Morgan looked at him like he was crazy.

"Dude, you are my best friend, but you need to hear this. You are flyin' blind, pal," Morgan said sagely. Chuck blinked. "Tell me this, Chuck, when did the Intersect stop working?"

"When Director Graham died in the explosion," Chuck replied. Morgan stared at him, a frown on his face. "Ten people were killed, Morgan."

"Eleven were, because apparently part of you died then, too," Morgan muttered. "How are you so smart and so not-smart all at the same time? Dude, this is about Sarah." He studied his friend and something seemed to hit him, even as things began to click. "Chuck, do you remember the song by Air Supply, 'Even the Nights Are Lonely'?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied.

"That song is you." Chuck began to shake his head, and Morgan began to sing. "I, I was so confused, feeling like I'd just been used. Then you came to me and my loneliness left me."

"It would have been better if it was Michael Bolton," Chuck muttered. "Long story," he said, seeing the confusion on Morgan's face. "Okay, say that you're right, say I do have feelings for her, say I am….say I have _intense_ feelings for her."

"Or we could just say you love her," Morgan said with a shrug.

Chuck glared at him, but Morgan pointedly ignored it. "Okay, say...THAT. She doesn't feel that way about me. And if she ever did, ever could, I ruined it. At least I think I did. I hope I didn't." He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "Besides I quit flashing when Awesome disappeared. That's the real reason. It was on the fritz before that but it really went offline after Awesome was kidnapped."

"I see," Morgan replied. "So you're all confused about Sarah, and Awesome is missing, and you can't flash?"

"Morgan, let's say I'm not confused and she's not either. She doesn't feel that way about me," Chuck insisted. "I already told you that. It's for the cover."

"Dude! She is CA-RAZY about you!"

"Morgan, spies don't have feelings," Chuck parroted what he'd heard at least once, if not a few times, in the past month or so.

Morgan gave him a flat look. "Then Sarah Walker is not a spy." Chuck stared at him. "Come ON! Chuck!" Morgan stood up and began to pace. Chuck reached up to try and stop him, but it was too late. "Chuck, bro… I have to be totally honest with you."

"Have you ever stopped?" Chuck groused under his breath.

Morgan continued as though he hadn't heard him. "Since Jill… Dude, you've depressed me. So bad."

"How is this supposed to help?"

"Just listen," Morgan said. "We've seen the way Sarah looks at you."

"Morgan—" Chuck tried to cut in.

"Listen, Chuck," Morgan said softly, his hands on the table in front of Chuck. "WE'VE...Ellie, Awesome, me, Big Mike, Lester, Je...okay, not Jeff, but let's be honest, he's out of his damn mind with some illegal substance eighty percent of the time so who knows _what_ crazy shit he sees."

"True," Chuck admitted.

"Dude, she loves you, and you love her," Morgan said. Chuck shook his head. "Chuck, you love her." Chuck waited a beat, then slowly nodded. "Okay, good. Now that we've got that admission over and done with, I'm gonna ask what this business is with you saying you 'ruined' things with her."

Chuck winced, shaking his head at himself. "I made the decision to join the NSA without talking to her about it for, uh, a few...weeks. Maybe. Ahem."

Morgan made an anguished face. "Bro."

"I know, I know. Trust me, I know. She's just...She's her, man. Even before you found out she's a CIA agent, she was easily the coolest, most gorgeous, incredible woman you'd ever seen in your life, right?"

Morgan nodded. "Yep."

"I thought—I don't know. I was afraid if I told her I was thinking of accepting the position with the NSA that she'd...tell me I wasn't good enough. And I didn't want to have to face someone I admire as much as I admire her...telling me I wasn't good enough. It's...lame. I know…"

"Oh. Man." Morgan shook his head. "On the one hand, I guess I get it. On the other, how many times do you have to hear me sing your praises before you believe me, dude? Of course your girl is radical—I know, I know, it's a cover, blah blah, whatever, Chuck—but you're radical too." He swatted his chest with the back of his hand. "And she knows you're radical. I know she knows." Chuck gave him a weak smirk. "So that's why you're in the doghouse with Sarah, huh? 'Cause you kept all that from her..."

"I am beyond the doghouse," Chuck muttered.

"Never fear, you're in my territory where I not only roam free, but prosper." Chuck wasn't sure that was something the beard should admit. Morgan held up one finger. "BUT, you have something I don't," Morgan replied, grinning. Chuck looked at him strangely. "She loves you, and she can't help herself. I'll tell you what you gotta do, Chuck. All you have to do... " He paused dramatically. "...is be _him_."

"Be wh—? What? Look, I'd turn myself inside out to be with her, Morgan. I'd do anything."

"Then you have to be him, the only guy capable of winning a woman who is _that_ bad ass." Chuck just stared at him, confused. "If I tell you, you have to follow my advice. You have to be him, no one else, or… Well, Buddy, or all is lost."

"I'll do it," Chuck promised.

Morgan paused dramatically again. "You need to be...Charles Irving Bartowski. You do that and that woman, spy or no spy, hasn't got a chance." Chuck gave Morgan a flat look and opened his mouth to argue. "Chuck, she fell in love with you. She's still in love with you. She only got mad at you when you quit believing in yourself and doubted your worth enough not to tell her the truth. She's mad because you didn't trust her."

"I should have told her," he said softly, nodding. "I know I should've."

Morgan slammed his hand down on the table. "Damn right you should have! What the hell were you thinking? That's something I would do! And you're supposed to be better than me, Chuck."

"I didn't think I was good enough for her. God, I still don't," Chuck admitted.

Morgan stared at him, eyes wide, disbelief covering his face. "Chuck, in all the movies we watch, what do spies do?"

"Kill, steal things, steal top secret intel... Why?"

"She's been a spy all her life, and then she meets you, who's...well...you," Morgan answered. Chuck shook his head. "Tell me one thing she says about you."

Chuck furrowed his brow and thought. "She's always saying I'm altruistic."

"Wow," Morgan said taken aback a little. "Beautiful, bad-ass, and brainy. I knew my other buddy was the perfect girl for you." Chuck shook his head. "How many altruistic people do you think she's met doing what she does? We've watched so many movies about spies, Chuck, and how are most spies in movies?"

"She says you can't use movies as a way to learn about spies," Chuck informed him. "Which...let's be real, she's kinda righ—"

"Not everyone's perfect. She had to have a flaw somewhere," Morgan interrupted with a shrug.

Chuck couldn't help but smile. He was starting to feel some of the burden lift. "Spies on TV, movies, and in real life, are very selfish, follow orders and take the easy way out. She's the first one I've ever heard of who hasn't been that way, not even in the very beginning." Chuck realized something then. "Did we tell you about Casey being NSA yet? We maybe skipped over that part"

Morgan bobbed his head back and forth. "Makes a lot more sense," he admitted. "Okay, so here she is telling you how great you are, being forced into a cover, clearly besotted with you."

"Been using your word a day calendar haven't you?" Chuck asked, holding up his hand. Morgan gave him a high five.

"I have my moments," he preened. "So, why hasn't this whole thing between you two happened even before the whole not telling her about the NSA thing? Because she's obviously _been_ interested. And you have been, too."

"She was my handler before and I was her asset," Chuck responded.

"You really want me to believe that the age old handler and asset thing stopped Sarah Walker, agent with the CIA, from at least _trying_ something with my charming pal Charles Bartowski? Please." He scoffed. "Come on. I get it, you two were doing the whole cover relationship thing, but _nothing_ happened? There wasn't even a little bit of a something...somewhere? Where you slipped?"

Chuck diverted his gaze for a moment, and then finally turned back to his friend. "I think it's safe to say yes."

"Did she completely shut you down when you slipped?" Chuck shook his head. She absolutely did not. "Did she go along with it?" Chuck nodded, thinking about the kiss in front of what they thought had been a triggered bomb. "Welp!" He clapped his hands together. "We've examined everything, so if you've told me the truth...?"

"I have," Chuck promised.

"Then what, my best spy friend, is holding you both back still? Hmmm?" Morgan asked. Chuck was struggling.

"I—I don't know if you're waiting for me to answer or if it's rhetori—"

Morgan slammed his hand down on the table. "Oh come on! She doesn't think she's good enough for you."

"WHAT?" Chuck asked, laughing outright. "That's crazy. That's crazy talk!"

"Is it? Or is it so crazy...that it's true?"

Chuck stared at his friend. "No, Morgan. Look, she's afraid the spy world will change me. And Casey…" Chuck looked up at Morgan and the grin began. He hopped off of his seat, walked over, picked up the previous file, opened it up, and flashed instantly. He turned back to Morgan. "Buddy, thank you. You did it. I flashed."

"Yeah, I uh...I saw the face. Whoa, dude." He made a _yikes_ face.

"So Chuck, who are you going to be?" Morgan asked then after a beat.

"Chuck Bartowski," Chuck replied, grinning.

"Why?"

"Because she loves Chuck Bartowski."

"Damn straight! Now when do I get a gun?"

Chuck blinked, and sat down. "Buddy…"

}o{

A little while later, Chuck finally brought Morgan back upstairs. "Remember, Morgan, it's a secret." Casey gave Sarah a dubious look that Chuck apparently caught. " _Some people_ don't believe in you."

"I do," Sarah said, smiling encouragingly at Morgan.

"And I, sweet spy Sarah, believe in you," Morgan said to her.

Sarah raised an eyebrow and it might have gone further but the front door opened, Captain Awesome himself striding in.

Sarah spun and saw him, but before anyone else could move, Chuck had rushed past all of them to tackle Awesome in a bear hug. "Oh my God! You're okay, Devon! Holy shit!"

"They think I'm you," Devon blurted out numbly.

"Okay, everyone downstairs," Sarah said quickly before any more discussion could be had outside of their base. How in the hell had Awesome shown up like this? And who had taken him? Why was he back?

But then she spotted Morgan nodding and heading for the door to leave them to it. "Nope. You too, Morgan."

"What the hell are you doing, Walker?" Casey asked, freezing on the spot halfway to the door that led into Castle.

"Casey, this is about Chuck's family, and if anyone is Chuck's family, it's Morgan."

She didn't miss Chuck's grateful look. They filed downstairs, took seats at the table, contacted Beckman, and had Devon tell them what had happened.

When he was finished, Beckman took her glasses off and looked over the group. "I'll be frank. From what he has told us, we can conclude that the woman Devon was with is Sydney Prince, the head of a Ring cell in Los Angeles. She has tried to recruit several of our agents."

"She knows everything about me, Chuck," Devon said, the nerves evident in his voice. Real dread and anger crossed his face then. "She knows about Ellie, too."

"She knows everything except who the real spy in the family is," Sarah said, only looking at Chuck. He seemed to catch the look, and the tone in her voice. And he diverted his gaze.

"That's an understandable mistake," Casey said. "One of them looks like a spy, and the other one looks... like Chuck."

"True," Chuck replied, looking down at himself. She frowned silently.

"She gave me this," Devon said, handing Chuck a box with an oval-shaped device inside. Chuck flashed and then blinked.

"Ring communicator," Chuck said. "Works off of a closed network, buuut, the NSA has recently developed new technology." He looked at General Beckman.

"We can crack it, but it will take some time," Beckman said, nodding.

"Sounds like a plan," Chuck said, pushing back his chair. "I'm gonna get Awesome back to my sister before she kills both of us."

"You can't take him home quite yet, Chuck," Beckman said. "We need to talk about how we're going to use Dr. Woodcomb against the Ring."

"Uh, excuse me?" Chuck said.

"Dude, no, I'm out of this," Devon agreed.

Casey looked from one to the other, and then back to Beckman. "I think I need to practice my marksmanship," he muttered and fled the area as fast as the wheelchair could take him.

}o{

"He's getting good at that," Chuck muttered under his breath.

"Agent Walker, can you...deal with this?" Beckman asked. Sarah looked extremely uncomfortable but nodded anyway. "Agents, Dr. Woodcomb."

"You're going to _deal with us_?" Chuck asked pointedly, not liking the way that sounded at all. Sarah sighed, not looking at him. Instead, she just looked tired, frustrated. "No one is using Devon," Chuck insisted anyway. "There will be no using of him anymore. He's out of the spy world. Forever."

"Using the situation Devon's in is our best option, Chuck," Sarah explained calmly. She turned to Devon. "Sydney Prince won't go to her superiors with your identity until she knows whether she's turned you or burned you." She took a deep breath, and looked Devon in the eye. "When Sydney contacts the guy she thinks is the agent, he'll do what she says. And we'll track her down and bring her in before she even lays a finger on him."

"I have to do what that crazy woman says?" Devon asked Chuck.

"No, you don't," Chuck said to him vehemently. "No, he doesn't," Chuck said to Sarah this time. He saw whatever battle that was happening in her head reflected in her face. "I know what you're going to say. This is about how our private lives get caught up in the spy world. It's what you've been saying about my decision to join the NSA. I get that, but Sarah, I'm not going to be that agent. We went into the consulate for Casey. How far do you think I'd go for my brother?"

"Really, Chuckster?" Devon asked softly.

Chuck turned to Devon and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "Dude, you've been family for me for a long time. I won't risk losing you. I'm not losing my sister's soon-to-be husband."

"Chuck, you have to understand. It's the only way to get him off the hook. We need to get Sydney Prince out of the picture or he'll never be safe again," she said softly. Devon and Chuck both looked at her. "Devon, we'll be with you every step of the way."

"If you two tell me you can get me through this, I trust you," Devon said.

"We will, Devon," Sarah replied. "You mean as much to me as Chuck does. I promise, I'll keep you safe."

"I don't think I mean to you quite as much as Chuck does, but I appreciate the sentiment," Devon replied. Sarah ducked her head and Chuck looked away. "I'm gonna go upstairs and get some yogurt. How about you two come get me when you hash things out because I need you two on the same page for this one. You know, so I don't die before my wedding day. 'Kay, good talk."

Chuck watched Devon walk up the stairs and out of the door.

Without even pausing, he mechanically made his way to the nearest desk, sat down, and let his head fall against it, not caring about the pain as his forehead smacked into the hard surface. He put his arms on the table beside his head, and just stayed there.

He felt her hand on his shoulder. It wasn't as tentative as it had been lately. It almost felt like it had before.

"Talk to me, Chuck." The slight strain was gone from her voice. And it set him at ease more than anything, as absolutely wrecked as he felt. It wasn't just getting Captain Awesome trapped in the spy life when he hadn't asked for it. It was everything else he'd fucked up too. It was all just piling on.

"I've messed up so much," he said softly. She didn't say anything, and her hand continued to rub his back comfortingly. "I've hurt you, I've hurt my sister, and now I've put Devon in danger. You're right. I can't do this with the way I am, and I won't become someone else. I refuse to do that. I refuse to be that person. This was about helping people, about making your life and Casey's life easier, and yeah, there was more, so much more I hoped I could be...with you." The hand stilled. "Sarah, who are we kidding? I'm terrible at this. I'm doing a shit job."

There was a long stretch of silence, and her hand moved against his upper back again. Slowly, reassuringly.

"You know what really makes the spy world the hardest?" he heard her ask softly. "It's missions like these. When the stakes are extra high because your personal life gets tangled up in it, and we're taught to compartmentalize personal things, like feelings. It's utter bullshit." Chuck's breath caught, but he didn't say anything. "Some missions, just—They are just so difficult, for whatever reason. But the ones that involve family or people you know..." She blew out a breath.

"I must have made your life hell for the past year." Sarah snorted. "I mean, every mission you had to deal with me. And me, constantly badgering you for friendship, for...more."

"I hope you understand the full meaning of what I'm about to say... It was the worst year...and the best year." Chuck laughed against the table. "And if I'm one hundred percent honest, I would do it again in a minute."

"If I could go back, I wouldn't have become an agent," Chuck muttered.

"Okay, that's enough," Sarah said, pulling him up into a sitting position so that he was forced to turn and look at her. "Stop with that. You are an agent. And I get it. I have some regrets too. But you have to move forward now. Pull your head out of this."

She really was something else. He felt some of the self-pity he'd been wallowing in drift away.

"You know," he said softly, meeting her gaze. "I get now why federal agents tend to have...interesting love lives." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Who else would understand this life but a fellow agent?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, looking him in the eye, her mask gone, looking almost unsure even as she continued. "I've met a few civilians that don't judge. One in particular."

HE smiled as much as he could, and then he sobered up and took a deep breath.

"I can't do this mission alone," he said, shaking his head.

"You don't have to," Sarah replied, squeezing his shoulder. "Now, let's go talk to Ellie. Actually no. Let's go see Ellie and maybe this time I'll do the talking."

"Why?" Chuck asked. "And there's no ulterior motive in me asking. That's just...well, very altruistic, Agent Walker."

"Because some damn nerd maybe rubbed off on me, okay?" She grinned at him, and then got serious just as quickly. "Devon is going to marry your sister and have a long, beautiful marriage and a lot of ridiculously attractive kids." Chuck widened his eyes and pressed his lips together as he nodded in agreement. "WE," she said, pointing a finger from him to her, "are going to make sure he gets to have all of that."

"Thank you, Sarah."

She grinned at him, stood, and offered him her hand. He took it and stood, bringing her very close. She didn't flinch. She looked him right in the eye.

"This one is personal for me too," she said softly. "Very personal." With that she turned and went up the stairs.

Chuck stood there a second, wondering if he dared hope there was a chance.

}o{

As Devon walked into the courtyard with Sarah and Chuck behind him, the door opened to his apartment and Ellie came flying out. She crashed into him in a tight hug. "Where have you been?" Ellie asked him, grabbing him by his shoulders as she pulled back to look into his face.

"Uh, Ellie, we need to go inside," Sarah said, walking up to her. "It's...complicated." Ellie's eyebrow went up. "It's also about my job," she said quietly. Pointedly. Ellie's eyes widened and she went inside. "You two… Stay out here, go to Casey's, just give us some time." Chuck and Devon nodded and Sarah followed Ellie inside.

"Tell me he's not an agent," Ellie said immediately, her arms crossed, as if daring her to say what she feared she would say.

"He's not, but...someone thinks he is," Sarah said. Ellie looked like she wanted to collapse. "Listen, I'll make this short. An enemy operative thinks there's a spy in your family. Now if you looked at this family from the outside, who would you immediately suspect is the spy?"

"Oh, God," Ellie muttered.

"Ellie, we are going to protect him." Ellie gave her a look. "I am going to protect him. I'm not letting my best friend lose her fiancé."

"Sarah," she began.

"Ellie, my biggest fear..." She swallowed hard. "My biggest fear is that I lose him." Ellie's eyes widened and Sarah felt herself starting to sweat. "I can imagine what you're feeling right now, because I wake up every morning with that fear. I know all the ways they could take him, and hurt him. I will never let that happen, so please understand when I say I am going to take care of Devon, I _am_ going to take care of him. Nothing is going to happen to him, do you understand me?"

"Have you told him? Talked to him?" Ellie asked. Sarah shook her head. "What if someone takes you or him tomorrow?" Sarah looked away, and bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Good God, if this is you two _not_ together…"

"I need to go," Sarah said quickly. "I've got to be there when Devon gets a phone call. But I need you to trust me. I promise, I've got him."

"One last thing," Ellie said. Sarah paused. "I know this firsthand. It's a lot easier to get Chuck to understand where you're coming from when you actually explain it. When you talk to him, I mean. He's a good listener."

Sarah just nibbled on her lip.

"I'm trusting you with my family."

"I know," Sarah said.

"Do you?" Ellie asked. Sarah gave her a look, and left. She didn't have time to do what Ellie had told her to do. She had to make sure she brought her fiancé back. That was the first priority.

}o{

Chuck looked nauseated as they sat in their van outside of Crystal Towers.

Those batshit crazy Ring agents had an earpiece in Devon's ear that would explode if something went wrong, or if he tried to remove it.

"Sarah," Chuck said softly from where he sat beside her. "Will you take lead on this?" She saw the worry in his eyes, and it tore at her. "There's no one I trust more. No offense, Casey."

"None taken. If Devon gets killed, I got a better chance of getting away from Ellie when she goes on a murderous rampage," he replied. Both Sarah and Chuck gave him a look. "What? I'm just saying what you two are thinking."

"He's not wrong," Sarah admitted. "But Awesome's going to be fine, I promise." She put her hand on top of his and squeezed. He gave her a thankful look. The call came in and they had their orders.

Devon was to go to the twelfth floor. "Devon, go inside. We'll be there," she said.

"We?" Chuck asked her. She raised an eyebrow and gave him an amused look. She knew she shouldn't but she needed him calm. Part of her was mad at herself. In a way, she was treating him like he was a mark. And that's when it slammed into her. She wasn't treating him like a mark. She was treating him like...Chuck. Her partner, Chuck.

"We," he said more confidently. They started upstairs, Chuck following after Sarah. She had a tranq gun like the one she'd given him in the van. She wanted to bring her real gun, but Chuck had argued against it. It didn't matter who they were going up against. They had to be the good guys in this. Also, he'd insisted that Devon getting hit by a stray dart was better than him getting hit by a stray bullet.

He wasn't wrong.

She moved up the steps, and emerged to see Devon trying to talk his way past the security guards.

"What is it about your family?" she asked softly, and rhetorically, as she hit the guard with the tranq dart.

"We're talkers," Chuck replied, shrugging. "We don't keep things inside, and I know that bothers you."

"It does...and it doesn't," she said. They took Devon to the elevators, went to the twelfth floor, got off, and listened as Devon got his instructions.

"Guys, this is going way too easy," Devon said. Sarah and Chuck both shot him a dirty look. "What?"

"You don't say that," Chuck told him. "You just don't." Three guys came around the corner, and Sarah pulled her gun, dropping them all, quickly. "See? Told you you needed tranqs," he said to her as she spun toward him. She saw three more behind Chuck, and quickly stepped up close to him, her arms shot past either side of his head, she fired twice, did the splits and shot the third one from between his legs. She stood up allowing herself to enjoy the grin on his face. "You're incredible."

She shrugged. "Just work at the gun range," she replied. They both looked over at Devon who apparently had just gotten a call, his face pale.

"Uh, guys, she wants me to cut a guard's eye out to get into a locked door," Devon said. "I can't do that, man! I took an oath!"

The mics sparked to life. "Walker, watch Devon's headset," Casey instructed. The lights went off, and she yanked it from his head. "Did that work?"

"Yes, how did you do that?" Sarah asked.

"Sydney walked by the van, I literally opened the door, hitting her with it, knocking her out," Casey replied.

Devon looked at Chuck. "I'm done with the spy business." Sarah looked away, wishing his soon to be brother-in-law was as well.

}o{

The next day the three sat in front of Beckman on the monitor. "Team, I have just been informed that last night was an exercise." Chuck sat up, anger covering his face. "Trust me Agent Carmichael, I'm not happy about it either." The door opened and down walked a talk man, with dark hair, that some might describe as well...a superhero. "I would like to introduce you all to CIA Special Agent Daniel Shaw. For the last five years, he's worked on taking out The Ring." She grimaced a bit before she said anything else. "Agent Shaw has total command authority on any mission to do with The Ring...unless it puts the Intersect at risk, in which I can veto the mission."

Casey had a bewildered look on his face as he saw Shaw. "Really? This guy? I have back issues of Guns & Ammo older than he is."

Shaw walked around the room. "Be that as it may, you should know that I have been fully briefed on the Intersect." Sarah felt herself gravitate just a bit closer to Chuck, which Shaw might have noticed, because he nodded seriously. "That's right. I know everything."

"No, you obviously don't," Chuck cut in. Shaw looked at him. "You risked my family. Why? You know what, I don't care what your answer is. There's something you need to know. There's nothing that I care about more than my friends and my family. I don't expect you to understand. Being the spy that you are, I'm not sure you care about anybody."

"Families and friends make us vulnerable," Shaw retorted. "They make us unable to pull the trigger. And that puts everyone in even greater danger." He paused and looked over at Sarah. "Just ask your partner here." He glanced at Sarah. "She'll tell you the same thing."

"Sometimes it helps to know that you've got something to lose," Sarah said, her eyes flashing dangerously as Chuck looked over at her. Shaw looked surprised that she hadn't backed him up, then he looked irritated as he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Well said, Agent Walker," Beckman said the moment he cleared out of the room. And then she ended the feed.

Sarah looked over at Chuck. "Be careful with him, Chuck." Chuck nodded. Sarah gave him a tight, sad smile, got up and left, leaving him with Casey.

"Damn CIA," Casey muttered.

"They're not all bad," Chuck replied.

Casey shook his head. "There's one that's okay."

}o{

Sarah moved through the hallways of Castle, making her way towards the shooting range. She had a million and one thoughts, worries, and fears making their way through her brain and she needed to focus. On one target, preferably.

Slipping the goggles on and prepping her gun, she wondered how in the hell the brass thought bringing someone else in on the Intersect was a good idea. It opened the door for loose ends, yet another agent who could betray Chuck, harm him, ruin the operation, and damage the effectiveness of the project.

It wasn't her decision. It wasn't her choice. It was above her head, above her pay grade.

And she thought it was the most reckless decision they could've possibly made.

Then again, who was even making these decisions? Because the CIA had yet to replace Langston Graham, and therefore the agency had no director, no one running oversight, no one making the big calls.

So where in the hell had Agent Daniel Shaw even come from, she wondered? Who'd picked him to be pulled into the Intersect Project? Who'd deemed him trustworthy enough to give him the Intersect's real identity, putting Chuck in a lot of danger?

The CIA was officially a power vacuum now. She had no idea who had control of what...or if anyone at all had control. If she wasn't here, in this situation, on this team, with this task, she'd get out of the cluster fuck that was the current CIA so fast.

Now with Agent Shaw hopping onto the team, coming from out of fucking nowhere, without someone calling the shots in the CIA above him, Sarah had even more of a reason to stay here. Chuck needed her now more than ever.

But she couldn't say anything. First of all, she wasn't going to do anything to alert Shaw of her suspicion and distrust. But secondly, and most importantly, Chuck had a lot on his mind. He was training. He was working towards becoming a spy. He was dealing with too much already. She was suspicious, yes, but it was in her nature to be suspicious, not to trust people.

She didn't want to put a thread of distrust in Chuck's mind if she was wrong about the new installment from the CIA. She didn't want him to be thrown off, she didn't want it affecting his work and determination. He needed to focus on the mission ahead.

And in the meantime she was going to keep her eye on Agent Daniel Shaw.

Whether Beckman and Casey were okay with him or not, she knew she wasn't. She wasn't sure why just yet, but she didn't need a reason. She'd find it if there was one. Eventually. And then she'd tell Chuck and Casey.

She pulled the trigger and watched as the hole appeared in the middle of the target's head. Right between its eyes.

Well. At least that hadn't changed.

* * *

 **A/N:** So anyway, please read what I've written at the end here with Sarah twice, three times if you have to, and understand that the thing you fear we might do ... yeah, that's not happening. It never was. It won't. So, like, chill. This isn't something I personally ever do in A/Ns... It's just that neither David or I feel like dealing with vitriol from folks for something we're not even gonna do. So that's that.

-SC and DC


	64. Chapter 64

**A/N:** We were going to let everyone just read and discover things when we originally wanted you to like you do with any story, but we've gotten too many people flipping out about the fact that we're in season 3 and that Shaw has reappeared. The pandemic situation in the world has been rough on both of us mentally/emotionally, and on top of all of that, we both decided we're too exhausted for it to be worth keeping quiet about this particular part of the plot. We'd rather just not have to deal with it. So we're going to tell you all that there is no Sarah and Shaw in our "Rewrite". Should've kind of been obvious, if we're honest, but we'll go ahead and just say it outright. So everyone breathe. Thanks for reading. And strap in. Uncharted territory abounds...literally.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, and we don't own the characters. We aren't making any money.

* * *

Shenanigans were going on in the back of the Buy More with Emmett, shenanigans Chuck and Casey did not want to be a part of. Especially after their coworkers' reactions to Casey showing up in a wheelchair, his leg still bandaged from his gunshot wound. He and Casey had already gone through the story with one another beforehand so that they were on the same page.

Casey had been swarmed with questions. And when he finally got a word in edgewise, he'd told them that he stopped a carjacking and got shot by the "perp". Morgan had immediately piped up with: "You should see the other guy, dudes!"

Which had of course led to Jeff drawling, "Oh shit, did you murder him? I bet he's dead in a dumpster somewhere. They find his body? Are you going to prison? I can hook you up in there."

He'd been given a few looks, but mostly ignored, before Lester had jumped in with, "Listen, buddy. Your secret is safe with us, okay? My Jewish uncle's rabbi went to prison for something similar and he told my uncle beefy guys like you don't last as long as you'd think. Guys, we can't let 'im go to prison."

But by then, Casey had already wheeled himself out of the circle altogether, and Chuck had watched him hone in on a man eyeing the humidifiers in the corner.

A few hours later, he found Casey again and called his name, making the big man pay attention to him as he moved around in his wheelchair. "Hey, have we got any more info on you-know-who down in you-know-what?"

"Who, Shaw?" Casey asked quietly. Chuck gave him a "duh" look. "Listen, I'm busy here, Chuck. Why don't you talk to him yourself? He's living there."

"He's living in... What? ...What?" Casey just raised his eyebrows like, "what can you do." "Casey, what's going on here anyway? Is he really _in charge_ of our team?"

Casey grumbled a little and scowled. "Shaw's a special agent for the CIA. He can do pretty much whatever he wants." It had sounded very bitter, which was on brand for Casey talking about the CIA.

"Wait. Wait wait...Can he reassign anyone?" Chuck asked, the octave of his voice going up even as he tried to whisper.

"No, but...it gets worse," Casey continued. Chuck felt nerves start to tingle in his extremities. "We have two NSA agents on this project." Chuck smiled. "Well, one and a half."

"A half! I'll take it!" Chuck said cheerfully.

Casey scowled and continued. "Whenever a special agent takes over an operation, they conduct a review. Sarah's in there with him right now."

"Oh. What do you think they're talking about? How is this going to affect our team?"

"Shaw may permanently assign himself to our team, considering we've got two NSA agents to one CIA agent. Shaw would make it two and two," Casey explained.

"That's not even necessary. Sarah's basically equal to two CIA agents."

"Yeeaaaahhh, not really how the brass sees it there, pal," Casey said sarcastically. "You're the Intersect, though, so I'm sure you're a big part of what's happening with Shaw…"

"Wait. The review's about me?" Chuck asked, beginning to worry a lot more. "Shouldn't Shaw be asking _me_ about me?"

"Where's the fun in that? Anyway, you don't look anything like her," Casey smirked.

"Casey, you— Never mind," Chuck said, frustration taking him.

"What's wrong, Bartowski? Afraid another good looking CIA agent is gonna swoop in and make a play for your girl? Afraid they'll become the spy couple on the team?"

"Didn't we already go through this with you, Casey? With the needling and the constant teasing about me and Sarah?" Chuck groused.

Casey looked properly chastised as he grunted and nodded. "Sorry. Look, it's the CIA, Bartowski. Shaw's CIA to his core. That much is obvious. He's going to do his job first and foremost, whatever they tell him to do. And I don't know if you've noticed or not, but she hasn't gone anywhere yet."

Chuck thought about how she hadn't gone anywhere...but that he hadn't gotten anywhere with her, either. And he felt a little glum.

Casey's phone went off suddenly. He picked it up and began to punch in some numbers. "Is that—Is that Shaw? Listen, I'm an integral member of this team, okay? My voice is necessary in this situation."

"Oh, your prepubescent little girl screams are gonna be duly noted," Casey retorted, and then paused. "That's actually more of a shot at little girls and I'm regretting it." Chuck frowned, never really sure where Casey was going with his insults. Casey grinned at him. "Actually, right now he wants to see you. G'luck."

Chuck pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes, and left Casey behind to head down to Castle.

}o{

"This meeting is to determine if Chuck Bartowski is capable of being a real spy," Shaw began, looking at the other three.

"Why is that even a question?" Sarah asked, speaking up before anyone else could. "What do you think all of the training is for? The missions we've gone on. I mean, his training has been irregular, sure, and he was a civilian less than a year ago."

"Well, these mission reports tell a different story," Shaw replied, shuffling through papers. "Sometimes he looks like an efficient, skilled spy... and other times it's like a Jerry Lewis movie. So I need to know, honestly, is Chuck a liability?"

"Look, Shaw," Chuck said, speaking up for himself. "I'm sure that things have been said...or written," he said gesturing his files, "about either myself or my abilities as a spy that have made you think certain things about my capabilities, and while I concede that there are more traditional or professional spies out there—"

"Chuck, this is my meeting," Shaw said, cutting him off.

"Right. Sorry," Chuck said, clearing his throat. "Please continue."

"I think we can all agree that this team has been very dysfunctional over the last year," Shaw began. Chuck hung his head a little. "And I think I know what the problem is. The problem is them," gesturing towards Casey and Sarah.

Chuck gave him his best "what the fuck" look.

"What?" Sarah snapped. "What does that mean?"

"It means he's a moron," Casey replied, testily.

"Chuck, they coddle you," Shaw continued, totally unfazed by his fellow spies' responses. Chuck listened closely but caught Sarah's body language out of the corner of his eye. "You could be a great spy, but they won't let you evolve. They won't let you learn."

What was he talking about? Casey and Sarah were _teaching_ him how to be a spy. They were conducting his training. How did that amount to them not letting him learn? "How are they stopping me from evolving, when they're the ones training me to even be a spy in the first place?" He turned to Sarah. "What _is_ this?"

She looked furious, just barely holding it in. And Casey was looking at Shaw with downright disgust on his face.

"Chuck, you don't understand," Shaw began and he turned to look back at him. "I'm offering you a solo mission, your first solo mission."

"I'm already on my first solo mission," Chuck replied, shaking his head in confusion.

Casey choked on the apple he was peeling and looked away. Chuck caught it clearly, a sneaking suspicion going through his mind. Sarah looked at Chuck in utter confusion.

"You mean Miss Routh?" Shaw asked, a tinge of mocking in his tone. Chuck wasn't sure what was going on so he just nodded.

"What?" Sarah asked. "Who is Miss Routh? There was a mission I wasn't brought in on?" She gave him a clear look that read "Again?"

And still, Casey was pursing his lips and pointedly avoiding meeting anyone's eye.

"No, it's okay," Chuck assured her. "It was a one-spy job. Just an intel grab of sorts. I have infiltrated this group—"

"A knitting circle," Shaw corrected in annoyance, his face blank.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. It's a knitting circle, yes. But I'm gaining intel on a possible mark," Chuck continued.

"Her unemployed son, Brandon. He played some minor superhero or something on TV," Shaw injected. "He tried to play a bad guy once but it didn't go over real well with a few of the fans."

"Anyway, he's disillusioned by everything now and it's possible he might be part of Fulcrum," Chuck said. He paused and looked over at Shaw.

"Go ahead and tell her the rest, then," the CIA agent snarked, gesturing to Sarah, obviously frustrated.

"So once a week, I show up and listen to the stories Miss Routh tells about Brandon and I learn to knit."

Sarah gaped. "I have...so many questions."

"They really aren't necessary..." Casey cut in.

"I've been wanting to talk to you about it, Sarah, you know for some advice, but Casey wouldn't let me, and anyway, it started while you were gone, on your own solo mission" Chuck explained.

Sarah turned to give Casey a murderous look. "Casey…?" she drawled slowly, warning in her tone.

Chuck looked over at Casey, back to Sarah, and then back to Casey again. The lightbulb went on over his head and he slumped down in his chair, burying his face in his hands. "Oh come _on_ , REALLY?"

"Damn it, Casey! Again?" Sarah snapped.

Chuck looked up at them again, embarrassed and annoyed and tired, all at once.

"See?" Shaw held up his files and shook them. "Jerry Lewis," he said as if he was right all along. Chuck really disliked him at that moment.

"Fine, Casey's a dick," Chuck said. Casey shrugged, assenting the point. "But he wouldn't put me in danger."

"They are coddling you," Shaw insisted.

"They are _not_ coddling me. I'm not even fully trained yet and I've been entrusted with big things, Agent Shaw, okay? Big mission-y things."

Sarah shut her eyes and sighed and he thought maybe that hadn't helped much. "What's the solo mission?" she asked then, seeming just as tired as he was.

"A relaxing getaway from Kingston to Rio de Janeiro on a cruise ship," Shaw answered. They all kept staring at him. "It also just so happens to be a nineteen-forties themed cruise ship."

Chuck groaned.

"And he's going alone?" Sarah asked, crossing her arms in disbelief.

"Many single people do go on those cruises alone. To meet new people," Shaw countered.

Sarah glanced over at Chuck, a blank look on her face. He shook her head, raising his eyebrows.

"What person under the age of sixty goes on a cruise alone to meet someone? That's not something I would do, anyone my age."

"That's why it's called a cover," Shaw reminded him, seeming to be getting frustrated.

"He really doesn't understand, does he?" Chuck asked Sarah. She sighed, shaking her head. "Listen, Shaw, I know, you came in here to take charge of the team, but Sarah has been in charge of watching me for a year now, and she's done a fantastic job of protecting me since day one. She understands me and gets how I operate. Casey, too. It's why we work as a team. If either of them—no, if Sarah _especially_ says it's a bad idea for me to do this mission solo, then it's a bad idea."

The mask was up, and he had no idea what Sarah was thinking. But he meant what he said. Sarah had been a spy for years, she lived this life, she must've been on hundreds of missions by the time all of this even happened to him. He wasn't going to let Shaw come in here and undercut Sarah's authority on his development and training to be a spy.

"Let me just go ahead and add that the NSA will not allow our agent to go on this mission without one of his trainers," Casey said. "The NSA strongly recommends that Agent Walker accompany Agent Carmichael—who has _the Intersect_ in his head, no less—not just to keep him safe, but to ensure that his training continues. I'd go, but I got shot." He shrugged.

"That's not your call," Shaw tried. "He might be NSA, but this is my team now."

Casey crossed his arms. "Go give General Beckman a call, and then she'll ask for my opinion. Watch." Shaw looked irritated. "Time's ticking Shaw, Agent Carmichael has a knitting circle to make."

Chuck sent him a glare, curling his lip. He couldn't believe he'd actually fallen for that shit. And… wait. "Hold on, what am I going to tell Miss Routh and the rest of the girls? I'm going to be missing a few meetings if I'm gonna be on a cruise!"

"Tell them you're taking a trip with your girlfriend," Sarah replied, shrugging.

"I...um...told them that I broke up with my girlfriend," Chuck replied with a wince. Sarah gave him a look. "I had to do something to get in, give 'em a sob story, make 'em feel bad for me. Appeal to that motherly insti—You know what? I hate all of you." Sarah was trying really hard to suppress genuine amusement as Casey snickered.

Chuck snapped his fingers then, an idea occurring to him. "Oh, I know. I'll tell them I had bought us the tickets before we broke up and I couldn't get a refund."

"That would work. Dysfunctional and awkward, but it works," Sarah muttered, pursing her lips. Then a bit of amusement came to her face. "So, um, what are you knitting during these circles?"

Chuck burst to his feet in excitement and grabbed the square piece of knitting he'd finished so far.

"I'm making Ellie and Awesome a throw blanket for their wedding," Chuck said, showing them.

Shaw threw his hands up and walked out of the room.

Sarah chuckled, got up, and headed for the door. But then she stopped in the doorframe. "We have a mission to prep for. You coming?" Chuck got up and hurried after her, leaving Casey sitting there, smirking to himself.

"Those two, locked in a room for who knows how long, alone..." He lit a cigar, leaned back, and sighed. "Either they'll kill each other, or straighten their shit out." He took a puff and snickered.

}o{

Chuck stared up at the juggernaut cruise ship in complete and utter awe. It looked like a god amongst mortals it was so massive, moored up against the Kingston docks. He and Sarah had taken a red eye flight down to Jamaica last night, and he was still feeling a bit loopy, dragging, as he'd had a much rougher time sleeping on the plane than Sarah had.

Maybe it was just her extensive spy training that made it so easy for her to fall asleep on planes. She'd flown all over the world, he imagined, and in worse conditions than a slightly cramped airline seat amongst other equally uncomfortable passengers. But he'd been unable to fall asleep. Maybe he was stressed about the mission, or maybe...maybe he was filled with adrenaline and excitement, with a dash of nerves.

This would be his first solo mission with Agent Sarah Walker...as an agent himself. Or, he supposed, an agent in training. He would be learning on the job, while also demonstrating just how much he'd already learned.

And sure, that wasn't the point of this—the point was to find the key that would open the case they'd recovered from Stromberg's estate a few weeks ago—but the opportunity was still there and he wanted to make the most of it. He could do this. He could be a spy. And not just any spy, but his own version of a spy, a Chuck Bartowski version of a spy. Whatever that meant. He didn't know, but maybe he'd figure it out on this cruise.

Sarah was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as the phrase went, once they'd stepped off of the plane into the delicious cool Caribbean breeze of Kingston where Charles and Sarah Villanueva would embark on their ten day journey to Rio de Janeiro by luxury cruise. And he knew she was so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed because the moment the plane hit ten-thousand feet, Sarah had fallen into a deep sleep. She'd slumped to the side part of the way through as he'd been attempting to read himself to sleep, her head resting on his shoulder, and he'd left her there, deciding that if he couldn't sleep, he could at least enjoy an unconscious moment of closeness—said moment lasting a good four to five hours.

So sure, he wasn't refreshed or well-rested, but he didn't exactly feel bad as he squinted up at the bow of the gigantic cruise ship.

"Charles. Darling."

He blinked, not realizing Sarah was speaking to him at first, and shook himself, spinning on his heel to face her. She gave him a look as if to say _Pay attention_ , then handed him his passport and ticket. "Sorry, er, _darling_. My, er, my darling...wife."

She gave him a flat look, then turned back to the customs agent with a polite smile. "Thank you, sir."

"Have a safe trip," the customs agent said, tipping his head at them.

Chuck slipped his passport into his inner coat pocket and cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just...I didn't sleep well on that flight."

Sarah sidled up close to his side as they moved towards the mass of people trying to get onto the ship. "I know you didn't, but we need to stay alert. This isn't a vacation. We're on a mission. Look for anyone who might be watching us too closely. That's the first thing. Anyone you see more than once. This is a big ship with a lot of people on it. If you're seeing the same shady-looking person over and over, we're most likely being followed. Got it?"

He nodded. "Got it. I'm on it."

She slung an arm through his even as he pushed their large suitcases along ahead of them on a cart. A man in a crisp navy blue suit and bellboy hat stepped up to them. "Good morning. Welcome aboard the _Arosa Empire_. I can take your luggage straight to your cabin for you while you wait to check in and climb aboard."

" _Arosa Empire_?" Chuck muttered under his breath to Sarah, but he got a sharp jab of her elbow into his ribcage, wincing and giving her an offended look. It was just weird to him that a ship taking off from Jamaica in the twenty-first century would proudly carry the word EMPIRE in its name like that wasn't historically a bad thing. He shook it off as Sarah handled delivering most of their luggage onto the bellboy's cart.

"Mr. and Mrs. Villanueva…" He checked the small notebook he pulled out of his pocket. "Cabin 477. Your bags will await you in your suite." He took the tip Sarah slipped him and bowed with a thank you, then pushed their luggage off towards another ramp where other bellhops were carefully taking luggage onto the ship.

"Were we...supposed to be all themed out getting onto the ship?" he asked then as the mass of people pushed them closer towards the front of the scrum. Women were in their dresses with the frilled sleeves and the high heels, the pillbox hats pinned to their updos, some with fancy veils over their eyes. And the men wore suits, some of them with silly-levels of exaggerated shoulders that made them look like they'd been involved in the zoot suit riots. And those typical nineteen-forties hats with the brim. The pointed toed shoes.

"Some of these people are really into it, apparently," she said under her breath, still scanning the crowd with her alert blue eyes. "It isn't required. But if we attend any events or plan on eating at any of the restaurants…"

"Full zoot suit riot?" he filled in.

She snorted. "I don't believe the CIA put zoot suits in your luggage but I suppose we'll have to wait and see, hm?"

He hoped not for much longer. He really needed whatever kind of bathroom they'd have in their cabin the CIA had booked them. He'd been holding it since they'd climbed into the taxi from the airport and it was making it hard for him to concentrate on doing his job and keeping his guard up.

Once they ascended the steps onto the main welcoming deck, they pushed past the people waiting at the railing, waving down at the folks left on the docks below. It was straight out of a post-war movie or something, men with their hair all slicked back and the wide ties and high pants.

It felt so bizarre that a mission had taken them here, onto a nineteen-forties themed cruise, to find the key that might open Stromberg's case. Who had brought the key here? Who might've hidden it, and where? How in the hell were they even going to find it on this massive cruise ship?

They had ten days to find out the answer to all of those questions. And he would have ten days to prove himself to Agent Walker as someone who would be a good partner—at least as far as the spy life was concerned. The rest of it? Well...he'd have to place that on the back burner for the time being.

}o{

Sarah took a deep breath as they stepped into their cabin suite for the first time, Chuck holding the door for her so that she could enter first. There was a nice sitting area with a table for breakfast if they chose to order room service, and a nice window, outside of which was the promenade deck. Off to the side was the bedroom and bath, and as she and Chuck were masquerading as Charles and Sarah Villanueva, a newlywed couple on their honeymoon, she didn't imagine she'd find a pair of twin beds through the sliding double doors.

"Please let there be a toilet," Chuck nearly whimpered as he hurried inside then and barely looked at anything before sliding the doors to the bedroom open and rushing into the bathroom. She heard the door thump shut and she smirked, shaking her head.

She had to keep her head.

This wasn't a regular mission. On the surface level, sure, it was just like the other missions she'd been on with a partner, and with Bryce in particular. Pose as a couple on vacation, do the usual spy work under the radar, get what or whom they came for, and bounce out of there. But this wasn't some other partner she was on this mission with. This wasn't Bryce. She was on her first solo mission with Chuck—Agent Carmichael—and she knew that it was a massive test. Her superiors would be watching, just waiting for this partnership to go down in flames. Beckman in particular would be keeping her wily eye on this, and Shaw would be eager to have his original plan about Chuck needing to undertake this mission alone be validated by their failure.

There was also the fact that she hadn't been in love with any of her partners until now. And that thought left her feeling raw and vulnerable in a way nothing else ever had in her entire life. She grabbed one of her suitcases from the pile in the main living area and carried it into the bedroom just as Chuck walked out of the bathroom. She turned her back to him and unzipped her suitcase, diving right into unpacking a little to disguise the unease she knew he'd pick up on immediately.

"So not only is there a toilet, there's a shower and bath combo and a sink with running water, as well as a first aid kit. Hopefully we won't need that, but we're spies and sometimes the spy life is...dangerous."

She ignored the slight teasing lilt of his voice as he stepped up to the bed.

"Oh."

"What?" she asked, pulling a long, elegant gown out from her suitcase and moving over to the closet to hang it up. She didn't usually unpack on missions, but seeing as there was really nowhere else for her to go while she was trapped on a cruise ship, and the fact that this mint green vintage gown with the slightly poofed sleeves and cinched belted waist seemed extremely prone to wrinkles and creases, she figured she might as well protect it.

"Uh...Nothing, I guess I didn't think about…" He cleared his throat and she glanced over her shoulder. He was staring at the bed.

"You're a special agent now, Chuck. Undercover as Charles Villanueva, copyright lawyer and newly wed to Sarah Villanueva, real estate agent. This is the job. We don't get to request two beds in our cabin, unfortunately. Might be bad for the cover." She couldn't help the clipped tone to her voice, but she wanted to hit him for specifically recognizing and pointing out that they'd be sharing a bed during this ten day escapade. He couldn't just notice it and awkwardly not say anything like she was doing? God.

"Right. Of course. You're right. I'm...We're professionals. We're agents. We're on a mission. This is a mission. I'm gonna go get, uh, my suits...and hang 'em up. Don't want creases. Bogart would never wear a creased suit."

She heard him clear his throat and he hurried out of the bedroom. Letting out a long breath, she rolled her eyes a little. This was already getting frustrating and the ship hadn't even left the Kingston harbor yet. How was she going to keep Chuck on task through all of this? With everything between them and the tense history, the long talks she'd had with Ellie, knowing little had changed in their feelings for one another in spite of the messy situation and Chuck's massive lie about his decision to join the NSA, and...and the fact that she knew she'd been a huge part of that decision, how was she going to keep this mission from veering off the rails? Would Chuck try to corner her again like he had at Stromberg's?

Could she even handle sharing a cabin—and a _bed_ —with this man for ten days while they worked? Chuck wasn't a fully trained NSA agent or spy just yet, and he was prone to distractions. And she'd never even been in this sort of situation before, so who even knew what she could and couldn't handle?

Suddenly a suitcase was dropped on the bed across from hers. She looked up to see him unzipping it and peering inside. And then he glanced up at her. "So...what's our plan of attack? What's our first step?"

She boggled at him for just a split second. There he went keeping her on her toes again. He was getting right down to business, the mission apparently at the forefront of his thoughts. He shut her brain up just like that.

"Well, we know the key is going to be on this ship thanks to Ring communications Shaw's analysts intercepted. They're just as much in the dark as we are when it comes to who will be transporting the key, and where this person is hiding it. All they know is a Mr. Frederick Hasselback is awaiting its arrival in Rio."

"So they're in the same predicament we are," he said.

Sarah nodded. "Yes. And we have to assume there are Ring agents on this cruise. Guests, staff, even the crew… They're all capable of being Ring agents so we can't let our guard down even for a second."

"Right," he said with a quiet nod. She watched him cast his gaze off to the side under a furrowed, thoughtful brow. "Do we have anything to go off of? Any clues as to whom this Key Carrier might be? Ooo!" He snapped his fingers. "We can call 'em KC. Like KC and the...Sunshine...Band. Ahem." His voice trailed off as she gave him a long, blank look. "Just a thought."

"First thing's first. We need to change so we blend in with the other guests. And then we need to get the layout of this thing."

"That sounds to me like we're going exploring. Are we going exploring?"

She couldn't resist the slight smile at his excitement. "We're spying, Chuck. It's what spies do."

}o{

Buttoning the last button on her cream-colored blouse, she tied the ends of the collar into a fashionable loose knot and turned to survey herself in the mirror. At least the CIA had provided her with a few pairs of comfortable high-waisted trousers, the legs loose and flowy, rather than just a parade of dresses and gowns.

Reaching up, she slipped one more pin into the bun that rested at the nape of her neck. She thought about spraying her hair to keep the loose strands and tendrils in place, but they were already heading to sea now and no matter what she did, she knew her hair would end up windswept. So what was the point?

She hurried out of the bathroom, her heels clicking against the floor, and she was forced to stop suddenly, nearly crashing into Chuck. She stopped herself with a hand on his chest, bouncing back a step.

"S-Sorry. I was going to ask if I could use that mirror because the lighting's—Oh." He stared at her for a moment, then ran his gaze down her long legs and back up again. "You look like—What I mean is you, uh, fit the part. I like the pants. They're you."

Sarah was too busy eyeballing Chuck's outfit to really listen. It fit him like a glove and he seemed to be squirming in it a bit. He hadn't even gotten the jacket on yet. The pants and vest matched, two different shades of grey pinstripes adorning both articles of clothing and the wide tie was the same shade of grey but with polka dots instead of stripes. She wondered if he'd accidentally picked the wrong tie, but...it looked good, really good, so she decided not to question it.

He was frowning down at the comb in his hand, the hair product in the other.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deciding not to respond to his compliment, lest she slip and tell him what she thought of him in those trousers.

"The hair. I can't get it to stay. Even with the product they put in my suitcase. Apparently the folks who prepped our bags have never met my hair." He eyed the jar strangely, reading the label. "If this crap makes me go bald early or something, I'm suing the government for damages."

She snorted and shook her head. "I'll do it. Just come over here and sit."

Snagging the comb and product from his hands, she led him back over to the vanity and bid him sit with an impatient gesture. He did so, a curious look on his face. Sarah ignored it and leaned down over him to scoop at the mousse and set both hands to his hair. She smoothed it in, combing her fingers through his curls, then took the comb and parted his hair about an inch left of center, combing each side away from the part.

His hair didn't cooperate as well as she wanted it to, but it also wasn't the worst thing. There were messy waves flowing back and to the side from the part that made him look a little like a stereotypical curly-haired, rebellious sportsman from those old movies she used to catch on her TV when she was holed away in a hotel room with downtime during a mission. Like a dark-haired Errol Flynn or something.

Sarah bit her lip and nodded. "Uh...best I can do." Clearing her throat, she went straight into the bathroom to wash her hands, silently willing herself to focus on what was important. This mission needed to be successful or this partnership was over before it even really began. Agent Daniel Shaw would take her place on this team, and she didn't trust him further than she could punt him.

They found themselves out on the promenade once Chuck donned his jacket that matched the rest of his suit.

As they walked arm in arm, he squirmed a bit.

"What?" she asked, eyeing him funny.

"Hm? Oh. Uh, this suit, it's just super snug. I think they got my size wrong."

"I think that's how the suits fit back then."

He made a quiet whining sound. "I look super cool, but I feel like the discomfort is unnecessary."

"Welcome to literally every article of clothing women have to wear on a constant basis," she muttered with a smirk.

"Touché," he said after a short pause. "Is this my punishment for all the times you've had to wear an uncomfortable dress and five inch stilettos on a mission?"

"Maybe, but it isn't my doing. I think fate must've decided to step in."

That made him chuckle, and she found herself smiling at the sound of it.

Once they got to the end of the promenade deck, he gestured through a door that took them into one of the guest hallways, and after a few turns, they made their way into the large lobby where they'd checked in at the concierge desk. Beyond the lobby was the massive dining area with a stage at the front. The cruise boasted a fourteen-piece big band and a "canary" (she'd rolled her eyes to herself at that), but they weren't on the stage now. Some folks sat at the tables eating club sandwiches, soup, salads, and others were already enjoying martinis and other cocktails.

"This is really fancy. You know, I've never been on a cruise," Chuck said as Sarah took her phone out of her clutch and snapped a few pictures. "I've always been the kind of guy who wants to just get on an airplane and get to my destination as fast as possible, then enjoy the destination and get back home."

Sarah pointed to a corridor that led out of the dining room. "Let's go that way," she said, and they walked through the rows of tables, stepping into the corridor. It was darker here. With no windows, the corridor required lamps lining the walls on either side of them as they strolled through. There were doors that led to storage rooms, a few staff cabins, and a staircase that led further down where she imagined there were more staff cabins. As much as this company boasted itself as being historically accurate in its portrayal of cruise liner travel in the nineteen-forties, she highly doubted they stuck "third class" passengers in tiny cramped, dilapidated cabins. Which was good. Some things had gotten better in sixty years.

"Think we're allowed down there?"

"There's no sign that says we aren't, and even if there was, we're spies," she said under her breath. "This is what we do."

He cleared his throat and gestured for her to take the stairs first. "Good point," he said in a flat voice.

They made their way down the staircase and Chuck snuck a quick glance down the hallway, first left, then right. "Coast is clear," he whispered.

"Hey." He glanced back at her, eyebrows raised in question. He really did look like an old-timey gangster with that hair and wearing that suit. All wiry and rebellious. "We're a newlywed couple taking a tour of the ship we're gonna be on for the next ten days, Chuck. Maybe tiptoeing around like cartoon characters isn't the right approach here."

He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Another good point."

Smirking a little, she threaded her arm through his and they kept walking, exchanging smiles with a staff member dressed as a maid as she passed by. Apparently she didn't give a crap they were down here, so Sarah took it as a good sign.

She took more pictures, simultaneously trying to memorize the twists and turns of the place so that she could get at least a mental map of the way the _Arosa Empire_ was laid out. Just in case. The more she knew this ship, the easier it would be for them to determine how and where to find that damn key.

Her phone buzzed as she made to slip it back in her bag and she glanced at it. "Shaw," she muttered to Chuck, and they ducked out of the hallway into a cramped nook as a bellhop pushed a cart past them.

Sarah answered her phone, glancing at the retreating form of the bellhop, and quietly muttered, "Walker, secure" into the phone.

"Good. I was afraid the service would be bad."

"It'll be worse once we get further out to sea, but we have access to wireless Internet on the ship." It wasn't exactly very nineteen-forties of them but realistically, they had to have figured folks couldn't completely cut themselves off from the real world especially in the privacy of their cabins. Emails had to be checked, family members and pets had to be checked up on.

"Listen. We've got new intel. Whoever took the key onto the ship, they're wealthy. Very wealthy. And we have good reason to believe they aren't aligned with the Ring, either. They were tasked by Stromberg to deliver the key to Rio…"

"So this person is basically a mule, then. A delivery person."

"Exactly. So we aren't sure what sort of person we're dealing with. We also know that this person means to stay in Rio indefinitely, Agent Walker. Which means—"

"They'll have more than just luggage for ten days. You think they're keeping everything else in the hold?"

"That's our guess, yes. Plenty of people are keeping things in the ship's hold, however. So it still isn't going to be easy to find out which of the belongings are those of this person carrying the key. And even still, who knows where they're keeping said key?"

Sarah nodded, biting her lip. "All right. We're on it. Let us know when you get anything else that might help us pin down this person."

She hung up and stuck her phone back in her bag.

"Come on," she breathed. "We have to find out how to get into the hold."

"The hold? Why?" He followed her anyway, but then he caught her hand in his and pointed. "That's a dead-end. I think the hold can't be accessed from this part of the ship. We'll have to find another way."

Sighing, she nodded. "You're right. Come on." And she led him back down the hallway and up towards the main room. They tried another way and found they were out of luck there, too. And it was as they were trying to make their way out of that passageway that a staff member finally stopped them.

"Are you looking for the dining area?" he asked. "Dinner won't be served for another hour and a half. We ask that guests don their formal wear for the dining area during dinner hours."

Chuck cleared his throat. "Oh. Yes. Thank you. We're a bit lost. Trying to get back to our cabin so that we can rest before dinner. You know how it is," he said, grinning a bit too wide, she thought to herself.

He led them away from the prohibited area and back up to the main deck at the bow. "There you are, folks. Feel free to ask any staff or crew if you have any questions at all." With a deep bow, he left them standing there out at the front of the ship, the wind whipping at their hair and clothes.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," Sarah mused aloud. "They obviously do have places where they don't want guests venturing."

Chuck shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted out at the water surrounding them. "So we will have to be sneaky after all."

"Seems that way, yeah."

His grin, with the way his tamed but still mussed curls fluttered around on his head, and wearing that suit, made her chest feel tight, and she looked away from it. "Well, this is looking like a full-blown mission, isn't it?"

Yes. It was. And a full-blown situation, too. That had nothing to do with the mission.

}o{

"The table in the corner."

Sarah felt a chill come over her as she looked back down at her lemon zest grilled chicken.

"What?" Chuck asked, mid-chew.

"We're being watched by the man at the table in the corner," she clarified quietly, calmly cutting a piece of chicken, piercing it with her folk, and plucking it off the end of her said fork with her teeth.

Chuck glanced around subtly and then looked back down at his own beef bourguignon. "Not to be an ass, but there are no corners in a round room."

She sent him a slight glare, sipping her wine. "That was a little bit assish, Chuck, not gonna lie."

"Wha—I'm not—It's true!" he argued.

"Sh. Up by the stage, there's a staircase leading to the upper floor...next to that, there's a table. There's a man at that table wearing a tuxedo." Chuck looked down at his own tuxedo and she huffed impatiently. "Yes, I know. A lot of people are wearing tuxedos. He has blond hair, thinning at the top, glasses. He's tall and skinny…"

Chuck turned around and looked directly at the table in question. She was about to grab him by the vest he was wearing and force him to face her again, the unsubtle idiot, but then he lifted his hand and gestured towards the nearby waiter. The waiter hastened over with a, "Yessir?"

"Do you, uh, do you have any...Tabasco?" Chuck asked, wrinkling his nose and pointed at his beef bourguignon. The waiter looked a little taken aback by the request and shook his head a little. "No? Well, no worries. Thank you anyway. I'll make do. This is delicious."

"Er...yessir. Thank you." The waiter bowed a little again and rushed off to help another table.

Chuck turned back to her immediately. "Okay, yeah, that guy's absolutely watching us."

Sarah slipped a smile onto her face that any newlywed woman might have for her husband and leaned in, keeping the surprise from her features. "That was slick, Chuck, I have to admit."

"Yeah, well...I'm not a total loss at this." She felt a pang at the way he'd said it. There was some bite there. And she felt like she maybe deserved it. "So what are we doing about Slenderman over there?"

"We have to assume he's a Ring agent."

"How does he know we're CIA and NSA, though?"

"Maybe he doesn't," she reasoned with a shrug. "Maybe he's going into this just as blind as we are, having to keep his guard up and be suspicious of everyone. They have to know we'll have agents looking for that key. They know we have the briefcase now."

"So? You have the ranking, here. I'm still in training. What's our next move?"

"We finish our dinner."

He was silent for a few moments. "That's...That's it?"

"Mhm. If we get up with half our dinner eaten and rush out of here, we confirm his suspicions. That'll put targets on us. Where there's one Ring agent, there are sure to be others slithering around somewhere close. He'll share that information with the rest of them and we'll be right smack dab in the middle of a lion's den about as helpless as a couple of gimpy gazelles."

"I'm nervous out of my mind right now, but you need to know that was a very well done metaphor."

"Thank you," she muttered distractedly. "Just don't lose your cool, okay, Chuck? My guess is once we finish eating, we leave the dining area, he'll follow us. Just follow my lead once we get out of here, okay? And until then, keep your eye on everyone behind me, I'll watch behind you...and for God's sake, act like a happily married man, won't you?"

Sarah slipped her hand over the table to wrap around his and she held it, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand adoringly. She hit him with one of her slow, warm smiles and he squeezed her hand, smiling back. "That's better," she murmured. "We can't lose sight of our mission here. Find and secure the key to the briefcase, and...maintain this cover. It keeps us safe."

"Safe enough that the guy in the non-corner pegged us as spies?" Chuck asked.

She resisted the urge to send him a flat look. She was a newlywed and in love as far as everyone else in this room was concerned. She leaned in a bit closer and let her features soften. "I get that sarcasm is your defense mechanism but this fake marriage will be getting off to a rocky start if you say even one more snide thing to me. Got it?"

Chuck swallowed thickly and smiled back at her, pursing his lips in an air kiss. "Got it."

"Good," she said with an arched brow.

The rest of the meal went without a hitch, they billed it to their cabin, and they made their way out of the dining room. But as they walked, Sarah felt Chuck give her arm a little tug, and just like that, they'd stepped onto the dance floor and slipped in between a few couples. She was in Chuck's arms, looking up at him with wide eyes. "What—What are you…?"

"Another Ring agent. I flashed on this one."

"Where?"

"On the dance floor, dancing with either yet another Ring agent, or some unsuspecting poor soul. The woman in the yellow dress at my twelve o'clock. Hold on…" He took her hand and stepped back a bit, raising their arms above their heads and allowing for her to spin out. She spotted the woman in the yellow dress, glad she seemed to be looking away for now, and she spun right back into Chuck's chest, letting him gather her up in his arms again. "See her?"

"Mhm," she breathed, eyelids fluttering a bit as she looked up into his face that was so close to hers. The cover, she repeated to herself over and over. The cover, the cover, the cover… "What did you see in your flash? Who is she?"

"Spent three years working for MI6 as a chemist, but she was caught and found guilty of smuggling chemicals out of their labs. Bad stuff. Really bad stuff. She somehow broke out of wherever they were keeping her and hasn't been seen since."

"The Ring got her out," Sarah said, squeezing his hand tighter and slipping the fingers of her other hand over the nape of his neck distractedly. "We need to find a way out of this place and we need to get back to our room without them finding out where said room is."

"Do you think all of them know who we are?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"No. They can't. Did she make eye contact with you?" Chuck shook his head, their noses brushing just slightly. Sarah ignored the shiver that went through her and hoped he hadn't felt it, as close as he was pressed against her. "Good. She hasn't pegged us, then. She's just here."

"Slenderman's pegged us, though."

"We'll take care of Slenderman," she said quickly. "Just don't freak out."

He nodded and she could hear him gulp, even over the soft samba the band was playing, the singer crooning the words to some old song she didn't recognize. But then he held her even closer and he shifted so that his face was pressed against her hair behind her ear. His body was tense under her touch and she wanted to reassure him somehow. But then he spoke up, quietly, his lips near her ear. "I'm just really glad I'm not doing this alone. I'm glad I listened to you. That Shaw guy is insane."

"You could do this alone, Chuck," she said immediately. "Even without being fully trained, you have the skillsets. You have the smarts. You think quick on your feet. You could do this."

"Maybe," he muttered. "Maybe not. Either way, I'm glad I don't have to this time." There was a long pause. And then, "I need you."

Sarah didn't know how to respond to that. So she just kept swaying with him, and she let her eyes slip closed for just a few moments. Her hand rubbed the nape of his neck comfortingly and he sighed against her hair.

The song ended a few moments later and they stepped back from one another to clap for the band along with the other couples. Sarah felt the air between them. It had changed. There was something crackling there, electricity...but also an incredibly deep warmth.

Clearing her throat, she turned back to him and met his grin with one of her own, letting him take her hand and lean in to press a kiss to the spot where her jaw ended, just under her ear. He had to kiss her there instead of on her cheek, didn't he? She swallowed hard and walked with him hand in hand towards the staircase that led up to the floor above theirs.

She wasn't taking the normal route back to their room. She could feel her spy sense tingling and knew they were being followed distantly. Probably by the guy Chuck called Slenderman, but if he was a Ring agent, he'd probably pulled the yellow dress chemist into his confidence about them too.

Or she'd notice that her Ring companion was determinedly headed somewhere and she'd put two and two together.

Either way, Sarah waited for another couple to pass before she slipped her fingers into the neckline of her gown, pulling one of her knives out and clutching it subtly in her fist.

"I don't have a weapon, Sarah," Chuck hissed. He was freaking out a little. She could feel the freak out energy emanating off of him.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I'm your weapon."

She couldn't be sure but she thought she felt him shiver, and she wasn't entirely sure it was in a bad way. She pushed that thought away quickly and pulled him to duck down the hallway that led towards the quarterdeck. "Do everything I tell you to do," she said quietly. "Okay?"

"Absolutely."

A waiter was pushing a cart towards them with a friendly smile on his face. Sarah saw there was a silver dome over the tray on top, keeping the food underneath warm, and she pulled Chuck to a stop for a moment, holding onto his arm to brace herself as she stooped a bit, pretending to fix her heel. The waiter was forced to halt the cart to keep from hitting her and he did so politely, but it also gave her a chance to look at the reflection on the dome.

There he was, the tall thin man in the tuxedo, blurry as the reflection was, striding around the corner, following them.

 _Here we go_ , she thought to herself.

 _Here we go._

* * *

 **A/N:** Here we go... Thanks for reading. Please review.

-SC and DC


	65. Chapter 65

**A/N:** There's been a lot of kind words the past several chapters. First we LOVE this fic. Second we have it plotted for a long time. We figure we're 20% done with it for those who worry we'll stop. Third for everyone of you who have said this entire setup is SC's jam…..you're 10000% right. Sit back, get a cocktail and hang on to your butts.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, and we don't own the characters. We aren't making any money.

* * *

She spotted the door to the quarterdeck straight ahead at the end of the hallway, and there was another hallway that jutted off to the left a few paces in front of them.

"When I tell you to go, run to the door that leads to the quarterdeck. You see it?" she breathed without turning her head to look at him.

"Yeah," he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"Good. Don't stop no matter what you hear. Just run as fast as you can. And when you get out there, turn right, keep running towards the stern of the boat—that's the back—and—"

"I know what the stern is, Sarah. I watched _Master and Commander_ five times in theaters." She gave him a look and he shrugged. "Russell Crowe is never bad in anything."

"Chuck."

"Sorry. Right. Run to the stern."

"There should be stairs that take you to the promenade deck, and from there you can get inside to the hallway outside of our cabin. Do not stop until you get inside, lock the door, and wait for me there. You got it? No matter how long I take to get there."

"I got it. Yeah. What are you gonna do, though?"

"I'm gonna fuck up a Ring agent, Chuck, what do you think?"

Something swept over his face then and he let out a rough breath. "Oh. Wow. I… Never mind."

Sarah slipped her arm around his waist and giggled flirtatiously, seamlessly pulling him down the hallway to the left, and then she swung him around and pinned him against the wall, pressing herself to the corner, her knife in hand. She pressed a finger to Chuck's lips, but she knew she didn't have to. He got the picture loud and clear. And he reached up to pull her finger from his mouth, instead pulling her hand down to his chest. She spread her fingers there and felt his heart hammering wildly beneath her touch. She imagined he was terrified. But he stood deathly still anyway, just waiting...waiting…

The Ring agent came around the corner fast enough that it nearly caught Sarah off guard though. She ducked low to try to jam her knife into his ribcage, but he side-stepped it just in time. Sarah brought her other fist around to crack it into his temple and sent him staggering against the opposite wall. "Go!" she barked at Chuck.

And he took off down the hall towards the quarterdeck, disappearing from her view. But as soon as he was gone, she felt a pain at the back of her knee and she went down hard, watching as the Slenderman bound to his feet and dashed after Chuck. She made a lunging dive to try to catch him by his boot but he escaped her grip.

"Fuck!" she snapped, rushing up to her feet and running after him. The kick he'd given her knee to take her down hurt like a bitch and the heels weren't helping, but she ran as fast as she could anyway, watching as the Ring agent put distance between them.

He burst out onto the quarterdeck, looked left, then right… Shit, he'd seen Chuck. He couldn't be far behind him either. Sarah sped up, knife still in her hand. She nearly skidded into the railing and spun over it, which would mean certain death in the deep blue sea. She caught herself though and made a mad dash down the quarterdeck towards the stern, the way she'd instructed Chuck to run.

But as she got to the stairs, she had a clear view of the curved deck down at the stern. Chuck was running towards the railing. She was going to curse him for not listening to her at first as she scrambled down the narrow staircase towards the deck below, but then it hit her why he didn't go to the room. It was the same reason why she'd guided him up the stairs to the floor above rather than going straight to the room.

They didn't want the Ring to be privy to their room number. They'd be in serious trouble and there was nowhere else for them to go on this cruise ship.

Part of her wanted to throw the knife at the Ring agent's back as he ran towards Chuck… She was too far away, as good as she was at throwing her knives. The chance it might sail past the Slenderman and hit Chuck was too high. And she wasn't taking that kind of risk. Not for anything.

"Why are you chasing me?" Chuck demanded in a shrill voice. But the Ring agent didn't respond, instead wrapping his fist in the lapel of the younger man's tuxedo and swinging him against the railing. Sarah's heart leapt to her throat and she nearly staggered to a stop, but Chuck didn't go over the railing like she'd thought he might.

The bespectacled criminal was snarling something she couldn't hear in Chuck's face as she slowed down and crept closer to them, slipping her knife into a better position.

"What are you talking about? What-What key?" Chuck asked desperately. She knew he saw her but he wasn't giving the other agent any clue, keeping his terrified gaze on the man's face instead. "No, I don't know about any keys! What the fuck, dude?!"

Sarah got close enough to see the Ring agent go into his pocket then, and out came the gun. _No!_

She acted on impulse, lunging. She stuck the Slenderman in his arm, but he still managed to swing the gun around and get a shot off. The silencer at the end of it made a _fweep_ sound and she felt a slice of pain on her thigh, but she didn't let it stop her. One hand slapped over his face, the other crashing down over the barrel of the gun.

He cried out and dropped it, which Chuck promptly kicked off of the end of the ship and out of sight, most likely disappearing into the watery depths below.

And she used the grip she had on his face to shove him down onto the deck, following with a swift kick to his stomach. He hunched over in a pained cough as she reached down to take her knife out from where she'd stuck it in his bicep, making him cry out again. But as she swung her fist down to finish the job, aiming for his temple, his hand came up and blocked it away, before he snagged a handful of heavy rope and threw it into her face.

She gasped in surprise and fell over onto her back, one of her heels catching on one of the wooden floorboards beneath her feet. It was stuck and he was closing in on her. With clammy fingers, she tried to unbuckle the heel so that she could just step out of it, but her fingers kept slipping against the leather.

But then Chuck dove right over her head, catching the Slenderman in the chest, a full-blown football tackle. The two men crashed onto the deck and began to wrestle. The Slenderman pinned Chuck, but her partner got his leg lodged between them somehow and used his foot to shove the other man off of him, before staggering to his feet.

"C'mon, asshole! Let's go! C'mon!" he taunted, beckoning the other man in the same way Bruce Lee had done to his opponents in those movies he and Morgan had made her watch all those months ago while eating sizzling shrimp.

It was ridiculous.

But it worked.

The other man growled and sprinted at him. And as he took off, his feet surging into the air, arms out to grab at Chuck, the NSA agent-in-training hit the deck, dropping so quick the Ring agent's knees slammed into the railing, sending him swinging over. He made a last-ditch effort to grab the railing on his way down, but the blood from his knife wound had dripped down over his hand, and his fingers slipped.

He let out a loud scream. Chuck hurried to his feet and peered over the railing, his eyes wide. And then he winced and narrowed his eyes, turning away and slumping to sit on the deck, almost like a rag doll. She hadn't heard the splash, but the sound of the ocean smacking into the boat and the thrum of the engine was loud enough, that she figured she wouldn't have heard anyway.

All she knew was that the Ring agent's scream was cut off.

"He didn't come back up," Chuck muttered. "D'you think it's the height? The height of the fall? Or…?" He shivered as she watched him closely. And then he frowned and shook himself, crawling over to her side in a mad scramble. "You okay?"

His hands gently wrapped around her ankle and she froze, watching his face closely as he eased his fingers down to carefully wiggle her heel back and forth until it popped out of the crack.

"There. You're free."

His eyes swept up to meet hers, their faces mere inches apart, and she held his gaze for way, way too long, before she broke it and quickly straightened to her full height. But she winced then, hissing at the sudden resurgence of pain. Her leg...his bullet had caught her. She pushed at her gown and saw a rip along her thigh, dotted with blood, but it felt like a graze more than anything.

Chuck was there immediately. "C'mon. Let's get back to the room. Quick." Then he paused, looking down at her hand that was still holding the knife shimmering with the Ring agent's blood. "Maybe hide the bloody knife."

"Oh. Good idea." She grabbed at the gown and hiked it up, slipping it into the holster there. It'd be less noticeable and she really didn't want to soil the nice white bra she was wearing under this gown where she'd hidden the knife when it was clean.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes. Let's just go. Hold on, lemme just—" She grabbed his arm with both hands tightly and winced as they walked to the door that led into the hallway. God, it hurt. It really, really stung bad, and she could feel the hot trail of blood dripping slowly down her leg. One single drop, traversing down her thigh… Damn it.

She grit her teeth and hissed.

"Almost there. I can carry you if you—Nope. That look was a no. Got it. We'll walk." He cleared his throat and kept walking her towards their room, but she noticed he was actively taking more of her weight anyway in spite of relenting on the carrying her option.

They got back to their room what felt like hours later, when really it was maybe about thirty seconds, and he was quick and efficient in unlocking the door and pushing it open for her to hobble inside, before he rushed after her and shut it behind him, turning the lock securely.

She gaped a little as Chuck ordered her to the bathroom, even as he strode through the suite to the bedroom, swept his tuxedo jacket off, and tossed it onto the bed. She did as she was told, hoisting herself up onto the counter with a pained hiss, and carefully rolling the material of the mint green gown she'd thought was so pretty up her leg and to her waist.

Stretching her leg out, she winced. The bullet had definitely grazed her thigh, and there was an angry line of blood, about four inches or so, with one single trail of blood dripping down, almost having reached her knee.

Chuck was there, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, and then he dug under the counter for the pale green washcloth, turning the water on to warm, testing it a few times, and wetting the cloth.

"This is going to hurt," he warned, but she sent him a flat look. "I-I know. You've had worse than this." He oh so gently set the cloth to her knee and swiped it slowly up her leg to clean the blood away, and then he dabbed even more gently over the wound.

She hissed in through her teeth and let her breath out through pursed lips, shutting her eyes for a moment. "It's not that deep, I don't think. At least there's that."

Chuck went digging under the counter again, rummaging through the cupboard, and he came out with a small first aid kit. He plopped it on the counter next to her and opened it. "If they charge the room for using these bandages, I'll go ballistic, I swear."

She couldn't help but laugh, and when his face lit up at the reaction he'd obviously been angling for, she felt something tighten in her chest. Again. She knew what it was but she willed herself to ignore it as best she could.

He was adept at applying the bandage once he'd thoroughly cleaned the wound and held the cloth there until the bleeding stopped, and she found herself wondering if it was just a second nature thing, or if being the brother of a surgeon had something to do with it. She didn't ask; she just watched him quietly.

"There," he said finally, both of his hands closing over her thigh where the bandage was, pressing down gently on the tape. "It feel okay?"

She swallowed, her throat dry. "Yes. Thank you."

He pulled his hands away and then he looked down at them with a furrowed brow, just holding them out in front of him, almost as if he didn't know what to do with them suddenly. It was strange. It was one of the most Chuck Bartowskiesque things she'd ever seen him do.

She tossed the material of the dress back down over her legs and slid down off of the counter again. Then she pulled at the gown. "Shit. I hope this wasn't actually from the nineteen-forties. To last sixty years and still be this beautiful, only for some CIA spy to wear it on a mission and wreck it by getting herself shot."

"I can patch up your leg, but unfortunately, I'm not much of a seamstress," he said, wrinkling his nose.

Sarah giggled. "I'm not, either. I'll at least let it soak a bit."

Without thinking about it, she reached back to unclasp the back of the gown and let the silky material fall down around her ankles. As she stepped out of it and bent to retrieve it from the floor, she heard Chuck make a "Hwuh—ahhh…" sound. She looked up to see he'd turned away from her, his hands over his eyes.

She blushed. "Oh. Shit, sorry. I wasn't think—"

"Oh, no. No, no. S'okay. I'm just gonna step into the—ow, the other room. Kay bye." He'd smacked his shoulder into the doorframe as he rushed out halfway through his sentence. And then he was gone.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and mouthed a curse at herself, before she set to cleaning the dress. And when she was finished, she emerged from the bathroom wearing one of the bathrobes she found hanging on the back of the door.

Chuck had dressed down, wearing just his boxers and the white muscle shirt he'd had on under the white crisp button-up the NSA had packed for him. He was sitting at the end of the bed, just staring down at the floor at his bare feet, wiggling his toes a little against the cool wood.

He looked up as she walked in, unpinning her hair and letting it fall down in waves to her shoulders. "I don't think he must've told the killer chemist lady he was going after us. Maybe she didn't even notice he'd left the room. Otherwise she would've been there to help him, right?"

Sarah nodded and sat beside him. "I think so. It's hard to know with this new Ring situation, Chuck. I can't imagine they have some sort of moral code they follow. The way you dove in to help me? Not sure a Ring agent would do that for one of their fellow—"

"Assholes," he interrupted. She gave him a look, incapable of keeping the amused smirk from her face. He cleared his throat. "Sorry. Were you not going to call them that?"

"Well, no. But it fits."

He pushed to his feet, pulling at the mess of moussed up curls that were at least a bit flatter than they usually were. "I'm gonna shower quick and get this out of my hair. It feels like a yak sneezed onto my head."

She made a grossed out sound. "Thanks for that."

He was still chuckling as he grabbed fresh boxers and a T-shirt and ducked into the bathroom.

Sarah pulled herself to the head of the bed and took a deep breath. A chill went through her as she replayed the events of the evening in her mind. One Ring agent was dead, gone without a trace. Whether anyone realized he was gone, put the pieces together, she wasn't sure if they would do anything about it. But she knew there was at least another on this ship. And she had to assume there were even more than that. Perhaps the man the Ring chemist had been dancing with.

She and Chuck were horribly outnumbered. But if they could get down to the hold without being caught and at least take a look at what was down there, maybe they could pick their way through the clues—if Shaw even gave them anything else, that was—and get off of this ship with the key, with Ring agents being none the wiser.

Everything caught up with her a few minutes later and she drifted off to sleep, completely lost to the world, unaware of the man who'd walked out of the bathroom and found her splayed over the pillows in a deep slumber, and unaware of the smile that stretched across his face.

}o{

He woke up at the gentle prodding to his shoulder. And then it was a little less gentle. "Chuck," came the whisper. "Hey. C'mon, wake up. We've got work to do."

He couldn't help the annoyed grunt followed by a quiet whining sound. As he blinked his eyes open, he saw that the sun wasn't even out. "I'stil dark," he mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow.

"That's kind of the point," she said in a flat voice. She apparently decided a whisper wasn't necessary. "We're gonna be sneaking around the ship. It's a lot easier to do when most people onboard are asleep."

"Not the gamblers," he said through a moaning yawn. He half rolled to face her as she hovered over him, still wrapped up in the robe he'd tucked the covers over when he'd found her zonked out after his shower. "Gamblers never sleep. And I saw the tables."

"Great, so we know not to go near the lounge. C'mon. Up." She squeezed his shoulder and rolled out from under the covers and off of the bed, crossing the dark room to turn on a light.

He groaned and protected his eyes by throwing his arms up to block his face. "You're worse than Ellie on a school morning."

Chuck thought he heard a quiet giggle. When he finally crawled out of bed gingerly, he grappled at his suitcase for a black pair of pants and a black cotton sweater that he tugged down over the white T-shirt he'd slept in.

They left the room, both dressed in dark but hopefully inconspicuous clothing, Sarah's blond hair pulled up beneath a black wool beret. She'd caught him grinning at it and glared, which had killed the grin immediately.

It wasn't yet five in the morning, but there were still a few staff members cleaning, making deliveries, picking up the trays from outside of the doors of guests who'd ordered room service the night before.

After exploring the belly of the beast, as he thought of it in his own brain to try to keep himself awake and alert, for long enough that the sky was slowly starting to lighten a bit outside, they finally found what Sarah thought was the entrance to the hold. But two crew members dressed in nineteen-forties cruise liner uniform leaned against the doorway, smoking cigarettes.

"Shit," she breathed, putting a hand on his chest and pulling him back around the corner and out of sight.

He snuck a peek back around the corner for just a split second and watched as the two men chuckled together. They didn't look like they were going to budge anytime soon, damn it. He pulled back and shook his head at her. "Are they just on break or do you think they're guarding the entrance?"

"I don't know." She pressed her lips together and then nibbled on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. "We'll have to just try to come back later. At least we know where it is."

"We think we know where it is," he muttered as they left the hold entrance behind and walked towards the stairs leading up to the staff quarters, then up through the crew quarters, and finally to the lobby and dining area.

"That has to be it. We already looked through most of the rest of the ship. Only other route down leads to the boiler room. I'm not so sure we'll find the key there," she said.

He shrugged with his whole upper body. "Maybe!"

She eyed him closely. "You're not making this any easier."

"But I'm not making it any harder, either," he said, lifting a finger. He winced at the lock that garnered him and held his hands up. "Sorry. The sarcasm, I know. I'm just very tired." He felt a sudden tug in his chest then, an unpleasant one. Because something in her face made him think maybe he wasn't being the best spy at the moment. "I'm gonna power through it, though. I'm gonna be fine. Brain's still super alert and sharp. I have the reflexes of a jungle cat." But just then his foot caught a little on a pipe jutting from the wall to the floor and he staggered, catching himself quickly and popping up to his full height. "Pretend that didn't happen."

Sarah smirked and shook her head, then grabbed his arm to stop him and turned him so that he was pressed against the wall. She stepped in a little closer and fixed him with a serious stare. "Chuck, it's okay that you're tired. And it's okay to talk about how tired you are. You might be a spy now, but you're also a human being."

He felt silly for saying it but he said it anyway. "You never complain about being tired. And for that matter, neither does Casey."

"Yeah, well...that's because I'm _always tired_ ," she said with a huff, "and Casey? Really, Chuck? All he does is whine and grunt and make that _ugh_ sound about everything. I mean, he takes a bullet better than I do," she said with a tilt of her head, gesturing to her thigh, "I'll give him that. But all he does is complain."

Chuck pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. "You...sorta have a point with that."

"I know I do. Come on." She began walking again and he hurried to walk alongside her. He hadn't forgotten what she said about how she was always tired, though. He stuck that away in the back of his mind, a feeling of melancholy trapped in his chest over it. "Look, Chuck. Doing this work...it isn't about being invincible. We aren't superheroes like the people in your comic books. I don't want you going into the spy life thinking that's what you have to be. Nobody expects that from you." She gave him a look. "At least...I don't."

He read between the lines a little. He could see it in her face. The slight pout, the way her brow furrowed. She didn't expect it from him...and she didn't want it. Not that he'd forgotten exactly, but he was reminded again of how sincere she'd sounded and looked when she told him she didn't want the spy life to change him.

"Noted," he said, unable to keep the warmth from his voice.

She smiled a little, though not at him. And she nodded. "Good."

When they got back to their room, the sun was just barely a sliver on the horizon outside of their window, slowly sneaking up out of the water, and Chuck stood with the curtain tied back, staring at the sight. He could hear Sarah rummaging around in her suitcase, for what he didn't know.

"Ya know? I never really get to see the sunrise much, especially not like this."

"Is that your way of thanking me for getting you up so early?"

He heard the teasing lilt in her voice and he smirked with a flat look over his shoulder, seeing the small cheeky grin on her face as she looked up at him from her suitcase. "No," he said resolutely. "It is not. Especially since we didn't even get into the hold after all that sneaking through the dark in the wee hours of the morning."

"Yeah, that's my bad. But at least we have a better idea of the layout of this massive thing."

Chuck had to give her that, shrugging a bit. "So what's on the docket for today? A little shuffleboard? Think the NSA packed me loafers?" She just snorted. "I hope they packed me something casual, at least. I can't go around in full-blown three-piece suits and tuxedos this whole trip."

"How do you feel about sweater vests?"

}o{

Sarah smirked at the man splayed out on the lounge chair next to her. She was in her wide-leg trousers, a blouse, and a wide-brim hat, with little round sunglasses protecting her eyes. She liked how it felt. It was airy, allowing the breeze that wafted through the sundeck grace her legs a bit more than jeans would.

But poor Chuck was in a brown pair of trousers that were nearly as high as hers were, with his blue button-up tucked into them, and a light brown and orange striped sweater vest over it. And a navy blue tie tucked into that. The part was still in his hair, sending his curls in something of the same direction, combed away from the part… but he refused to put the "yak sneeze" in his hair again. It was a just barely tamed mess and it was hard not to like.

But he looked really uncomfortable. She wondered if it was the high pants thing. Maybe he was too warm in the sweater vest. He kept fidgeting in his chair either way.

"You okay? Uncomfortable?" she asked him.

"I've been looking at these people's faces for almost an hour now, Sarah. I'm on the verge of a sunburn, but only from here up," he said, putting his hand to his tie, "and I haven't flashed once. Not once."

She huffed, leaning her elbow on the arm of the chair and propping her chin in her palm. "I can't imagine there aren't more of them," she said, lowering her voice.

"Neither can I." He shook his head, then leaned over the arm of his lounge to get closer to her. "How likely is it that there are agents in the Ring organization who aren't going to be in the Intersect?" he asked. There was flirtation in his face and in his tone, and she knew it was for the cover, even if it made the warmth of the sun seem that much warmer.

She leaned in likewise and smirked with an equal amount of flirtation. "I suppose it's likely. Someone without a criminal record, someone who's kept off of the FBI's radar."

"Why would someone like that ever want to join a criminal organization like the Ring?"

"Hell if I know."

He opened his mouth to respond, but then she saw that look she recognized all too well: the way his face froze in shock for a moment, and then his eyes rolled a little, his jaw going slack, and then he snapped his eyes shut tightly and shook his head. But then it happened again. And when a third flash came over him, she grabbed him by his arm and hurried out of her chair to push him to lie back, leaning over him.

"Ma'am, is he all right? Can I get you anything?" A nearby porter rushed over, his walky-talky in hand. "We have medical staff on hand…"

"I'm fine—I'm okay, I'm good," Chuck rushed out, his eyes springing open. He held up a hand. "Just a little sunstroke, maybe. Honey? Uh...maybe I'd like to lie down in the room for a while?" he said, breathless.

She heard desperation in his voice and she sprung into action. "Thank you, I'll take care of my husband," she said to the porter. People were pausing to glance at them now, and she was careful to look every bit the part of a concerned, doting wife as she put her arms around him and helped him sit up.

"Can I get him some water?" the porter asked.

He was sincere and just doing his job but she wanted to snap at him to go away because him being there was causing a minor scene. She couldn't exactly say no to his offer either, considering Chuck had just blamed his episode on sunstroke, so she nodded and thanked the porter who rushed off.

Sarah took her floppy hat off of her head and fanned Chuck's face with it. "You feeling a little better, sweetie?" she asked as he sat up and swung his legs around.

"Oh, yeah. Much. Much better." He nodded and leaned close to her. "I flashed on three different people. All of them are criminals, worked under drug smugglers, arms dealers, and despots. They've got records in the Intersect that make them sound...kind of, uh, grisly...let's just put it that way."

"Okay, so what you're saying is...we're surrounded."

His eyes widened in confirmation. Shit.

"Could you recognize them if you saw them again?"

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

"Well, at least there's that." She looked up as the porter came around with a glass of ice water that was dripping with condensation. "Oh, thank you so much, sir. Here, honey, drink this."

To his credit, Chuck took a short amount of time to gulp the entire glass of water back. "Much better," he said. "Thanks, man."

"Sure. You need help getting him back to your cabin? If you give me your room number, I can have a doctor sent to check up on you."

"No, really. I'm okay. Thanks." Chuck stood to his feet and slung his arm over Sarah's shoulders as she joined him. "I've got my lovely wife here to take care of me. Thanks for your help."

She ushered Chuck away from the lounge chairs and snuck through the nearest door into the hallway, deciding that getting off of the sundeck was the best bet. They could get back to their cabin using the hallways and staircases inside. Since apparently there was a whole Ring party going on out on the decks all of a sudden.

"What are we going to do?" Chuck asked, still leaning against her a bit even though no one was around for the cover. And then she realized he'd just flashed three times in rapid succession. He was most likely still leaning on her because he needed to.

"Get to the cabin where we're safe and let you lie down to rest."

"I don't need to rest. We need to find that key and get off this damn ship." When they got to the stairs that led down to their floor, he pulled her to a stop and glanced down the hallway, before looking down into her face. "Still think I could've pulled this mission off alone? It's a ship full of criminals who work for a secret terrorist organization. This is literally hell. We're on a hell ship. Every time I see one of 'em, I'm gonna flash. I flash this many times in a row, and I'm out of commission for a bit." He tapped his temple. "What the hell is that Shaw guy playing at?" he asked. "We've been on this ship for two days now and we've got nothin' so far. He hasn't sent us any more information, either. If you weren't here, it'd be me, my flashes, no information to go on, and a shit ton of murderous traitors surrounding me."

"Welcome to the spy life, Chuck." She couldn't help it. This was what she'd been trying to tell him from the start of this, when she'd first found out about his decision to join the NSA. This was what she'd been trying to get through his head. "The chances of being sent on a mission in which you've got the odds in your favor are slim to none, Chuck. That's what we're for. That's why they send us."

He frowned and kept walking down the hallway towards their room, having to put a hand out to push off of the wall every few paces since he wasn't leaning on her anymore. She followed after him. "Do you understand, Chuck? Shaw was willing to send you on this mission without me, without Casey, because that's what these agencies do. He isn't an outlier. That's just business as usual."

"So we're expendable to them. Is that the point you're making?"

"No," she said. " _You're_ not expendable, Chuck. That's the point I'm making. Which is why I didn't want you in this business," she hissed, taking his arm. "And it isn't just the Intersect. It's you. And it isn't about whether or not I think you're capable of being a good spy. You've proven you are."

He stopped at their room and unlocked it, pushing the door open and walking in, in one swift and graceful movement. She walked in right on his heels and slammed the door shut behind her, flicking the lock.

"I get it, Sarah. You don't want me to change. The spy life is gonna change me. Being in situations like this will change me. And you don't want that to happen." He turned to face her, standing at the foot of their bed. "But this is me. I'm this guy now, sure, the guy on a mission with his partner surrounded by Ring agents on a giant ship in the middle of the Caribbean sea. I'm a spy. But I'm still the guy that is freaked the hell out by our current predicament and wants the hell off this ship, even though I'm fully prepared to go through with whatever I have to in order to get that key back to Langley. I just tripped on a fuckin' pipe this morning because I'm sleep deprived. This is me, Sarah. Things are going to be different, and I guess it's up to you to decide if it's different enough to…"

He trailed off, looked down at the floor beneath his feet, and then sat down, not meeting her gaze at all, in fact pointedly looking away from it as she just stood near the door. He quickly tugged his shoes off. "I'm going to get some rest."

Sarah just stared at him for a few moments, and then she nodded. "I'm going to see if I can contact Shaw."

As she stepped out of the bedroom, sliding the double doors shut to give him some peace while he rested, she felt an incredible weight pressing down on her. She tried to shake it off as she made her phone call to update Shaw and hopefully get a thread of something from him that might help them out.

Sarah wandered over to the window and peered out over the promenade deck's railing, taking in the sparkling blue Caribbean waters for a moment and pulling the number up on her cellphone. She texted first, requesting a short meeting, and her phone rang not half a minute later.

"Walker, secure."

"What is it, Agent Walker?"

She clenched her jaw. "Chuck has been flashing on Ring agents, Agent Shaw. Left and right. One of them attacked last night after dinner."

"They attacked? So they know you're CIA?" her fellow CIA agent asked. "Shit."

"I don't know that he knew who we were, just that we were suspicious. But he followed us from our table when we finished eating and then he attacked, tried to get Chuck to tell him where the key was."

Shaw let out a breath. "That's good. It means they still don't know where the key is, or who has it."

"Yes, but Agent Shaw, neither do we. And there are only two of us and a lot of them."

There was a long pause. "How many is a lot?"

"There was the one we took care of last night. And then another Chuck flashed on—a chemist. The Intersect had her as ex-MI6, name of Agent Julia Barringer."

"I'll look her up and send you the dossier. Is that it?"

The impatience in his tone made her want to reach through her phone and strangle him. She took a quiet, calming breath and shut her eyes. "No. That isn't it. We have been looking for more. In just the span of about ten or fifteen seconds out on the sundeck, Chuck flashed on three other agents. There's bound to be even more than that. I have a bad feeling we're surrounded by Ring agents on this ship, Agent Shaw."

He was quiet again. "Hm. Not ideal."

She balked. "Not ideal? There are two of us here, Agent. And Chuck's barely been trained for a month."

"Do you not trust your partner's ability to be in the field, Agent Walker?"

She turned away from the window and glared, hoping he could feel it. "That is not the problem at all. You have two agents, one of us with almost no field experience, going against a ship full of who knows how many Ring agents. Those aren't great odds for any team, Agent Shaw."

"Agent Walker, you're supposed to be the best agent the CIA has ever had in its ranks. Graham's Wildcard Enforcer. You were always the agent they called when they needed a job done, isn't that right?" She didn't respond and he continued. "First you coddle Agent Carmichael and hamper his training, then you convince him he can't learn on the job unless you're there right alongside him, and now you think not even you can do the job." She could murder him, she thought. If he was in front of her right at that moment, she would strangle the life out of him. "What chance do any of us have if this is the best team the CIA and NSA have to offer?"

Sarah grit her teeth, her free hand folding itself into a tight fist. "We are the best team the CIA and NSA has to offer. And you know that's the truth. But we aren't superhuman. We aren't invincible."

"I'm not asking for invincibility. We're just asking for you to get the job done. Find a way to get that key without the Ring agents getting there first, Agent Walker. No matter how many of their people the Ring got onto the cruise ship, they're still at the same spot we are. They don't know who brought the key onto the ship, and they don't know where that person is hiding it."

She tried to push her own ego to the side. Because what he said had stung. And she wanted to punch him in the throat for it. But the mission had to come first. "So I take it that means you have nothing else to offer as far as information to help us find the key courier."

"Nope. Call me when you get that key, Agent Walker. And then I'll send out the orders for extraction." She was about to hang up when he added, "Oh and Agent Walker...Sarah...Be careful."

She hung up, growled, and then mimicked throwing the phone through the window. The way he softened his tone when he said her first name, the familiarity there. Was he trying to goad her? Or was he being sincere and was just that clueless?

And she didn't understand what in the hell was going on here, what Agent Shaw was playing at, sending them on this insanely risky mission, angling his heart out trying to send Chuck on the mission _alone_. Contrary to what she'd told Chuck about how the spy life was full of crazy-dangerous missions where the odds were stacked against you, this was a step beyond. Granted, Graham had sent her on suicide missions before. It was just that she'd been good enough, and sometimes lucky enough, to get out of it in one piece. Or mostly one piece. She had some scars to show for it.

She wasn't coddling Chuck. And Casey wasn't coddling him, either. They just weren't on board with sending an agent who had only been going through training (and non-traditional training at that) for a month on a suicide mission, a lion's den floating in the middle of the ocean, without some back-up. He'd be chum in the water. As it was, they were chum in the water with the two of them here. She couldn't imagine if it was just _one_ of them.

She had to assume the NSA wanted their newly minted agent, the agent with the Intersect in his head no less, to learn on the job, not _die_ on the job.

It was crazy. What sort of a maniac did the CIA send them? And how much of a say did General Beckman get in this? She couldn't imagine much. The NSA general was a hard-ass and tough, but she didn't tend to actively will death on her agents.

Shaw'd had almost no reaction to hearing they were surrounded by Ring agents. And it wasn't like they could hop into a van and drive the hell out of Dodge if things went south, if they were found out to be federal secret agents. They were on a God damn ship in the middle of the Caribbean, with land hundreds of miles away. They were trapped on a floating prison for the next seven days. A floating prison full of people who'd kill them without blinking if they knew they were CIA and NSA.

She needed to think. And Chuck was probably fast asleep by now, as he should be after flashing so much all at once. She could use a walk out on that promenade deck, but she didn't quite want to chance it at the moment. She couldn't help feeling like this cabin was the only safe place on the entire ship for them. And she didn't have the energy to be on her guard, watching every damn person she walked past in case they produced a knife or another silenced gun and tried to take her out.

So instead, she carefully and silently slid one of the doors to the bedroom open, sneaking in, and unbuckling her shoes. She slipped her feet out of them, walked to the bed, and set them on her side, tucking them beneath, before she oh so gently crawled onto the bed and laid out on the mattress beside him.

He was upset with her. She'd seen it, heard it, felt it. But no matter what disagreements they had, no matter what struggles were between them, the fact of the matter was that they needed one another to get off of this boat alive and with that key. She knew her fellow agents at the home base wouldn't be helping them anymore. Casey would, but she didn't know if he was currently under Shaw's thumb. And even if they were going to help, she and Chuck were stranded out here. They were on their own.

Sarah had been in situations semi-similar to this, only she'd been woefully alone then. Biding her time, waiting to make her move, knowing she might die, and if she did, she'd simply fade out of existence, like she'd never existed at all.

She wasn't alone this time. The CIA agent turned her head to look at him, his back to her as he curled up on his side. She rolled onto her own side, facing him, and she reached out tentatively. She let her fingertips rest on the cotton of the sweater vest, and then she flattened her whole hand there, and she shut her eyes.

This partnership needed to work.

Or they wouldn't survive.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review.

-SC and DC


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! The mission continues...

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck, we're not making any money.

* * *

Chuck's eyes snapped open as he felt her hand at his back. But he didn't move a muscle, he kept his breathing even. A thousand thoughts burst through his already over-taxed mind at once. But the thing he latched onto was that she thought he was fast asleep, and she'd reached out to touch him, to feel him against her palm.

Weirdly enough, it brought him back to when he was a kid, those first months after his mom walked out on them. Morgan's mom had swung by to bring Chuck to one of their family picnics at the park, a chance for him to hang out with Morgan and to just get out of the house for a few hours, something that might distract him. But everyone there knew about his mom and the way they'd been so kind but almost..overly kind...with pity in their faces that was easy for him to recognize even at that age, the whisperings of "how could she leave her family?" and "how selfish, pobre niño", he'd felt very alone and almost a little scared. But Morgan's cousin had brought her dog, a brown terrier mutt named Greg, and the dog sat near him as he plopped in the grass and watched the festivities. He'd reached out and put his hand on its furry back, just feeling it under his palm. It had reassured him and calmed him in a way little else before that had.

Why he thought of that memory in this moment, he wasn't really sure, but he wondered if Sarah needed something from him, if touching him right then was her way of finding reassurance, calm...comfort.

He didn't budge, not wanting her to be embarrassed when she figured he was asleep. Chuck was sure she wouldn't have done this if he was awake, and it made his chest absolutely ache that she'd done it only because she thought he wouldn't know, wouldn't feel it.

But her hand finally went slack and he knew she'd fallen asleep. He very carefully rolled onto his back to glance at her and saw he was right. Her hand was still stretched out over the mattress, bridging the gap between them, her eyes shut, face marked with fatigue, but also there was a certain peace and youth to her beautiful features when she slept. It was a sight he hadn't been gifted with too often.

He could try to actually fall asleep again, but knew it just wouldn't happen. The headache was nearly gone, however. And he had a lot to think about.

Agent Shaw gave him the willies, and he seemed like one of those serial killer types where everyone thought he was really handsome and charming and chill when actually he went out at night and murdered people in their beds.

Chuck knew he was being ridiculous but still, in spite of the unsettled feeling he had around the guy, Shaw was right about one thing.

Chuck was an agent with the NSA. Or, at least, well on his way. And there was still a large part of him that took for granted the fact that his once-handlers would come up with the plans to get them out of a sticky situation. He wasn't going to let Sarah carry all the water this time.

He wouldn't lie around and wait for Sarah to come up with something. He was pulling his weight. This was his job now. She deserved a nap. He'd get whatever information she'd obtained from her phone call with Agent Shaw later, but for now, he was going out to let the sea breeze smack him in the face, let it wake him up and jigger his thoughts a bit, and he'd come up with something.

Sneaking carefully out of the bed, he climbed up to his feet and stepped back into his shoes, looking down at Sarah one more time. A strand of her blond hair had fallen out of the windswept knot she'd tied at the nape of her neck and fell over her eye. He resisted the urge to fix it and turned his back on her, checking his pockets for his key and slipping out of the bedroom to make his way across the suite to the door.

It took him a few minutes to get to the other side of the ship and up the stairs that led onto the topmost deck of the _Arosa Empire_ where the pool was. Two women and a man were splashing around in the pool, and a few others were lying around on the lounge chairs getting sun, chatting or reading books.

Chuck picked a chair far away from the pool that was pushed up against the railing. All he had to do was swivel his hips a bit and he could look out over the Caribbean. And because he was a freaking sap down to the very deepest depths of his soul, Chuck thought there wasn't anything prettier than the color of the water in the midday sun...except for Agent Sarah Walker's eyes.

Shaking his head at himself, he snorted a little and reached up to push his hands through his curls.

He'd spent the first two and a half days of this trip of theirs letting himself fall a little deeper, both for her in general, and into that easy, comfortable pattern of banter they had. Even after all of the strife, the barriers between them especially now that he'd lost her confidence after keeping his decision to join the NSA from her for so long, it was so easy to talk to her. It felt good unburdening himself to her. He did it with just as much readiness as he had before. And it hadn't seemed like she was opposed to it. She was just as open and receptive as before. A warm and safe, reassuring presence when he felt he was on shaky footing.

And then the conversation in the hallway had happened after his three rapid flashes. He wasn't mad at her. She had every right to be worried about him in the field. He had no experience, and especially not in handling missions on his own. She and Casey always swept in to save his life. It took the three of them—and sometimes just two. But he couldn't do this on his own. That much was evident. Whereas Casey and Sarah could, and had for years in their own careers as secret agents. So she was right to doubt his capabilities on this particular mission, even though he knew she didn't think he was totally incapable in general.

But her incessant worry over his safety, and the way she'd been both scared and furious about his decision had made him think twice a month ago after he'd told her. He'd built himself up since then. He was learning. He was training.

And then she'd reminded him just then in the hallway that her doubts in his ability to be a real, full-blown spy were still there. Even if she was trying to make this whole thing work. Even if she was supporting him, even if she agreed to help train him while Casey was recuperating from his gunshot wound.

There was the other part of it, too. The part that almost seemed to be the most important part for her. Her fear that he would become some sort of monster or...less himself...by becoming a spy. Like that was going to be the only option; be a civilian and stay a good person or become a spy and go Dark. Like this would kill whatever was inside of him that had first drawn her to him.

He knew how sure she was about it. He saw it, felt it, in the way she pleaded and argued. But he believed with everything in him that it wouldn't happen. He wasn't alone in this. He had his people with him. He had his family, his best friend. He had Casey… and thanks to her decision to stay in spite of having so many reasons to leave and stay gone, he had Sarah too. How could he become a monster in this spy life when he had so much there to keep him grounded?

Chuck huffed and leaned his cheek against the back of the chaise lounge, staring out past the railing, before he let out a long sigh and swiveled again to toss his long limbs across the chair and recline back a bit.

The first thing he had to realize was that they needed to find a way to get that key and get the hell out of this situation without getting murdered by agents of a terrorist organization. However many of them there were on this blasted boat.

Everything else could come later. He needed to make sure there was a later first.

Like getting into the hold and surveying what was down there.

"Oh, come the fuck onnnnn…"

Blinking at the voice that invaded his thoughts, he shook himself a little and turned to glance to his right where he heard the voice come from. A young woman was draped over a chair about ten feet away from him, giving her laptop a furious look.

"Speed up, God damn it," she hissed at it, smacking the side of the laptop propped on her bare thighs. She fixed the thin strap of her bikini top and Chuck quickly turned to face forward, in case she thought he was staring or something. And he swallowed hard.

He squinted at the people still laughing and splashing in the pool, as if he'd been watching them this whole time. And he kept his gaze glued to them, feeling her long stare on his profile suddenly. Crap. He hadn't meant to have anyone on this freaking deck notice him.

Had she been sitting there when he arrived? He would've picked another corner. Maybe she'd sat near him when he was staring off into the sea deep in thought and he just hadn't noticed.

"Oh, sorry…"

He raised his eyebrows and looked back at her. "W-What—Oh, me? I'm fine. What—?"

"Oh." She smiled shyly. "It's just…" She gestured to her laptop. "I didn't realize someone was sitting near me and I just cursed a whole lot at my laptop." She winced and gave him a self-deprecating look. "I'm not even sure if we're allowed to curse on this cruise. You know, with the whole...wholesome forties theme."

He chuckled. "Um, the brochure said twenty-one and up. So I don't think you really have to worry much."

"Good point." She grinned and giggled. And when he didn't say anything else, turning back to the pool, he saw in his peripheral that she cleared her throat daintily and pulled her laptop close again, going back to work. He heard another, softer, "Fuck" then and glanced over. She caught his eye and gave him a wan smile. "Sorry. My laptop is really slow. It's probably just this whack Boat Wi-Fi." She tilted her head charmingly. "But I have, like, legit work to do."

"Aren't you on vacation? I mean, I'm assuming. People usually do these things for vacation. Not work."

"Oh come on, you don't work on vacation? Everybody says they aren't going to and then they do anyway." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Especially me. Anyway, not much work I can do on this stupid thing, it's so laggy."

Chuck sat up a bit and scratched the back of his head. He was a bit tentative about doing this because he and Sarah had made a quick pact in the plane before she'd conked out to keep to themselves on the boat, do their best to fly under the radar and not bring attention to themselves. That meant this conversation probably wasn't a great idea.

But computers were something he could figure out. They weren't hard. They were sometimes the only thing he could rely on being good at. He could fix a phone, a laptop, a WiFi signal. Nothing else in his life was nearly as simple as that.

And for once, he needed a win.

So he gestured to her laptop. "Hey, uh...You know, I'm not bad with tech. I mean, I used to do a lot of IT stuff. If you want me to look at it for ya."

She raised her eyebrows at him, then nibbled on her lip and looked at the laptop screen. "Well? Uh… I…"

"No pressure. Just thought I'd offer if you need a hand."

"Are you sure?" she asked, giving him a dubious look. Her features became shy then. "I didn't mean to, like...disturb you or interrupt or whatever."

"Nah, it's no problem. Let me take a crack at it." He got up and walked around to plop down onto the chair next to hers as she beamed and passed the laptop over to him. "So it's slow you said?"

"Uh. Yeah." She turned so that she could drop her legs down off the side of the chair and plant her bare feet on the ground beside his, leaning her elbows on her knees and leaning in close to look at the screen with him.

She explained the way even the simplest things took forever, even sometimes moving the mouse, and he made a few quick checks. It was something he'd solved so many times at the Buy More that he could do it with his eyes closed. But that also meant he could pay attention to the fact that she'd scooted even closer at some point, and that her responses had begun to practically drip with honey.

It was throwing him off, but not really for the reason he thought she probably intended. It had just been a sudden sweetening of her tone, like someone had flicked a switch.

"So, uh, I didn't quite catch your name. I figure since you're fixing my laptop for me…" She arched her pretty eyebrow.

"Ch—" He stopped himself. "Chester. Yeah."

"Chester." She nodded and smiled. "I'm Hannah." She thrusted her hand out for him to take and she held on a little longer than he really knew what to do with. Clearing his throat, he went back to the laptop—very pointedly. "You on vacation, then?"

"Yes. Yep. I, um, definitely. On vacation."

"Very nice. On vacation with...anyone in particular?"

 _No_ nearly came out of his mouth he was losing his footing in this conversation so intensely, trying to figure out what was going on, _if_ something was going on. But then he shook his head. "I-I mean, yes. Yeah. I'm here...I'm on the cruise with my wife. Sooo…" So...what? Why'd he end it with a long, awkward soooo… ? As if verbally shaking his finger at her for flirting, or telling her _you can stop flirting now_. But he preferred to pretend he wasn't even noticing the flirtation. _You're just fixing her laptop and then walking away, you jackass_ , he thought to himself.

"Ah." She pulled back just a little, but that look on her face didn't go away. Shit. "You guys have some sort of nineteen-forties kick or something?"

"It was...uh, the cheapest cruise we could find. So...ya know…" He tapped away, clicking around the screen.

"Really? My cabin's pretty fuggin' expensive," she groused, giggling. "But hey, whatever. It's one way. And I can afford it." She shrugged.

"Ah. Yeah. One way, huh? You're...moving? Or do you mean you're flying back?" His fingers slowed a bit as he sat up straighter, not looking at her but his eyes darting back and forth.

"I'm gonna set up shop in Rio de Janeiro for a while. My dad saddled me with his massive shoe empire, but he never told me where I had to base it. Figured I might try the Cidade Maravilhosa and become a carioca." She smirked and Chuck gave her a blank look. "That's the Marvelous City. It's what they call it. And a carioca is someone who lives in Rio. Basically."

"Ah. Very cool," he said smiling, but he turned back to the laptop, freezing a little. "You're going to live in Rio permanently…"

Oh. Oh, boy…

"Yeah, why not, right? ...Something wrong with Rio? You're going there too, after all," she said hesitantly.

"No, no. No, Rio de Janeiro is… I mean, I've always wanted to. And my wife was game because she's super easygoing and sweet like that. Yeeeaah." Noooooo. This was bad. Or maybe good? Both? He wasn't really intending to make contact with KC or their Sunshine Band. And here he was potentially sitting next to her. And being flirted at by her, to boot. Crap.

"You know what, Chester? I hope you don't mind me saying...but you're actually pretty cute." She leaned her chin on her palm and raised her eyebrows, giving him a closed-mouth smile. And then when she showed her teeth, a chill went through him. Her intentions were clear. And she thought he was married too, which...damn.

"No, I don't mind. My, uh, my wife says it a lot. Yeah." He chuckled nervously. And then he clicked one more thing on her laptop and thrusted it back towards her. "Ta da! Look at that. Super quick, WiFi working perfectly. It was lagging because you had a, um, just a software problem. Sometimes switching WiFi networks causes lagging with this model's software, but I fixed it. Shouldn't be a problem again."

"No way! You fixed it?" She gaped at her laptop and took it, setting it on the lounge next to her hip and clicking around. "Holy shit, it's even faster than it was at my hotel room in Kingston. You're a fucking genius, Chester!"

The look she gave him was very different from the shyness she'd displayed in the beginning and he decided this was as good a time as any to excuse himself and go straight to Sarah. He thought she wouldn't mind being woken up about this. "Oh, hey...s'nothin'," he said, waving it off. "Listen, good luck with the shoe business and the Ciu-Ciu-er-dade Mara—ville...yeah. Okay. See ya."

Chuck climbed up from the chaise lounge and pointed at her. "Nice to, uh, meet ya...there...Hannah…" And then he trailed off and pointed a little more. "Hannaaaahhh…"

"Liu," she filled in for him. "Hannah Liu."

He nodded and waved as he walked backwards away from her. He slammed into the back of one of the chaise lounges and nearly stumbled, but just barely caught himself as she winced, pulling her waving hand back. "Woops! Okay. Yep!"

"You didn't tell me your last name!" she called after him. "Chester…?"

"Wayne!" he called back. Idiot. "Yep. It's Wayne."

And then he hightailed it around the pool and down the stairs as casually as he could. He wanted to sprint back to the cabin, but keeping a low-profile was important, and a six foot four inch man in a patterned sweater vest sprinting around the boat wasn't exactly that.

}o{

"Sarah...Sarah, hey… Sarah…"

She was roused out of sleep immediately by the tone of his voice mostly. She felt him giving her a gentle shake, his hand on her shoulder, and she slipped a hand under her pillow and came out with a knife, sitting up as if she'd never been asleep at all.

"What?" she gasped out, blinking at him. "What is it?"

"Whoa, whoa...Knife unnecessary. You don't need that." His hand closed over hers as she gripped her knife, holding it out to the side, ready to shank the hell out of the threat. She looked down at his large hand curled over hers, so warm...and… She shook herself then and pulled back, pushing the knife under her pillow again and pushing the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ear. "Sarah, something happened," he said, breathless. "I came right back here to tell you. I figured you wouldn't mind me waking you up. You don't mind, do you?"

"You haven't even told me what happened yet," she said.

"Oh. Shit, right. Sorry. Um...Sorry, I'm a bit frazzled. Lemme just pull myself together." He took a deep breath and she grabbed his bicep, leaning to the side a bit to catch his eyes.

"Just...tell me. Slowly."

"Slowly. Gotcha. Okay. You know h-how we kind of decided we were going to keep a low-profile, not make friends or really even talk to anybody on the boat?"

Sarah lowered her chin a little and looked at him through her eyelashes. That beginning did not bode well. "Not 'kind of'. We absolutely decided that."

"Yeeeaaaah, we did, didn't we?" he drawled with a wince. Which told her quite clearly what he'd just done. She sighed and shut her eyes. "Um. Well. I woke up and you were here—You were here napping. And I couldn't fall back asleep, so I decided to go out and get some air, check out the pool deck, do some thinking. You know? We're—We're partners now, and I need to stop relying on you to come up with all of the answers all the time. I need to pull my weight and—That's-That's neither here nor there, sorry."

"Chuck…"

"I know, I know, get to the point, Chuck. I didn't realize someone was sitting near me and then this young woman with a bikini and a laptop cursed." Sarah raised her eyebrows and he halted, his brow furrowing. "I mean, she was wearing the bikini. And had the laptop...on her lap."

"Yeah, I figured that out," she said crisply, watching closely as he tugged at the tie around his neck. He was blushing. Definitely blushing. And she wondered why he felt the need to add the part about this young woman wearing a bikini. She chewed on the inside of her cheek a little.

"Right. F'course. Um, so anyway, she seemed to be struggling with her laptop and she apologized for...disturbing my peace with her...curses."

"A regular Shirley Temple, huh?" Sarah said through a clenched jaw.

"Uh, w-wha? No. I mean, she was pretty charming. If I'm bein' honest." She'd prefer him not be honest, actually. She'd definitely prefer him to be the opposite of honest. In this case. "Not-Not that charming. Uh. My point… Ahem. I'm almost certain that she is KC." Sarah jolted and stared at him with wide eyes. "And the Sunshine Band. Sarah, she's the key courier, the carrier of the key. Stromberg gave her the key. She's the one."

She grabbed his arm and scooted closer. "How do you know that? Did she talk about it?"

"The key? No. No, no. But I offered to fix her laggy laptop for her." She gave him a tired look and he shrugged self-deprecatingly. "I can't help it. I gotta offer my services when they're needed."

"Do you?" she asked sarcastically, pursing her lips.

"That...didn't come out right. I just—I fixed her laptop, Sarah, okay? You're making a mountain out of a molehill."

"A molehill in a bikini," she grumbled. She couldn't help it. She was just roused out of a nice nap in order to be told that Chuck was flirting with their mark. Someone who was obviously pals with a God damn criminal. Which meant there was a good chance she was also a criminal. At best, her morals existed in a grey area, she thought sourly.

"I was—I was fixing her laptop," he continued as if he hadn't heard her, "and she mentioned that her dad owns a big shoe business. Not a big shoe business like they make shoes for people with big feet like me…" He lifted his foot to the side and she gave him a look. He lowered his foot again and smiled weakly. "His business is—Point is, she's super rich. And she's moving to Rio de Janeiro to base her dad's business there. She's moving there. Permanently. Rich person...permanently settling in Rio. The Ciudad Marvalaloose."

Sarah distractedly breathed, "Cidade Maravilhosa."

"Okay. Fine. I can't do the...whole Portuguese thing." He shrugged. "Which is fine, because I'm not moving there permanently. But. She. Is. Sarah, I think she could be it. The person we're looking for. I mean, the person with the key. She is...the key." She watched as a slow, awed, crooked smile grew over his handsome face. But then he furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes, looking off to the side. "Wait. Am I making a huge leap here? I mean, some of the people on this boat have to be planning on staying there, right? There are, like, a couple thousand people on this thing, and that's not even counting the crew."

"No, I think…" She let out a rough breath, pushing her hand through her hair. "I think you're onto something, Chuck. At the very least, it's at least a lead. Something we can look for once we get into that hold."

"I just...I can't picture someone that unassuming and down to earth and just, I dunno, nice…" Sarah blanched. "Being the type of person who smuggles a briefcase key for a super bad dude. I mean, she's really endangering her business! And her safety, more importantly."

"Yeah, well… You never know who's capable of what. After all, she flirted with a married man." Sarah batted her eyelashes at him sarcastically.

"N-No, she—Wait, how do you know she was even aware I'm married? I mean, she wasn't flirting!" he attempted, and she gave him a flat look. "Okay fine, she was flirting and she...knew I was married because I flat-out told her I was. I didn't flirt back."

"I don't care what you do, Chuck, unless it's with _a mark_." She swung her legs to the side and stood up, stretching.

"You flirt with marks sometimes."

Sarah's jaw dropped as she slowly turned to face him. Did he really just say that to her? And he wasn't backing down, either. If anything, he looked pretty pleased with himself. "That is different. The whole point of what I do is to turn their heads to distract them, get closer to what I need. And it's last resort! You were supposed to be lying low, Agent Carmichael," she said, adding that last bit with his name in a particularly mocking tone.

"Oh, ho ho ho." He stood up, towering over her, but she held her ground, nostrils flaring as she lifted her chin and looked up at him. "For your information, I _was_ lying low. I sat in the chair that was furthest from the pool. I was even wearing sunglasses!"

"Oooooh sunglasses, wowwwwwww. Well, Inspector Clouseau, I'm absolutely certain nobody would ever recognize you with thoooose," she snarked in supreme sarcasm.

He pressed his lips together into a thin line and narrowed his eyes in a glare. "Listen, Agent Walker, I wasn't the one who struck up the conversation. I was minding my own business. She talked to _me_. What am I supposed to do, ignore her?"

"Here's a thought! Maybe don't offer to fix her laptop and then flirt with her."

It was like a lightbulb lit up over his head then, and she had a bad feeling about the smug look on his face. "Hoooold on, hold on. Wow. Okay, whoa. You're jealous."

"Excuse me?" She gaped at him.

"You. Are. Jealous. I didn't flirt back at her. I fixed her computer, gave her the name Chester Wayne, by the way, which is a cover name on top of my cover name, so _nyeh_ , and then I got out of there even though she was definitely interested." He thrusted his hands out to the sides, palms up, in a smug shrug pose and tilted his head.

"Oh, yeah. Must've been that dashing sweater vest," she sassed.

"Hey! I don't look that ba—Okay, it's kind of terrible, isn't it? Why'd they pack this for me? I hate it." He shook himself then and stood straight, glaring at her as if he'd lost his train of thought for a second and just got it back. "Look, I got a lead for us. Sure, it was dropped right in my lap, but ya know, the whole don't look a gift horse in the mouth thing."

"Right, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, just flirt with it unnecessarily."

"You are jealous," he said, and she was taken a bit aback by the genuine surprise in his face.

"I'm not. Okay? But we said we were going to keep off of everyone's radar while we were on this cruise ship, and instead you've put yourself squarely on the worst possible person's radar, Chuck. The person we're going to be stealing from."

He huffed and looked legitimately contrite. "Shit, I know. I didn't mean to. I thought I was just fixing a nice, pretty girl's laptop. I figured it was no harm no foul. I'd fix it and be gone and she'd never recognize me again. Let's face it, Sarah, even with all the workouts I've been doing with Casey and Captain Awesome, I still just sort of blend in with the wallpaper."

Sarah sagged a bit and looked away. She didn't want to say it out loud, but he was very wrong about that. He never had...'blended in with the wallpaper'. He'd stuck out. He was a patch of warm colors in the landscape of black and white that had been her existence for twenty-six years. And since then, that color had touched other aspects of her life; it had expanded, lighting up places in her that had been darkened when she was practically a kid still.

"She'll recognize you, Chuck," she said instead. "It's what you do. You leave good impressions. Really, really good first impressions especially." She let out a huff and shook her head. "You need to keep away from her. Stop giving me that look; this isn't jealousy. I'm sure you weren't trying to flirt with her. This is about the fact that we're going to have to potentially sneak into her cabin, and at the very least look through whatever she is keeping in the hold, to find that key. We can't have her seeing you and interacting with you again. It will ruin everything."

Chuck ruffled his own hair in frustration. "I know. Do you—? No, that's not even…" His voice drifted off and he shook his head.

"What?"

"Nah."

"If you have an idea, Chuck, share it. What is it? I won't judge. I promise. We're a team, here. We need to communicate. Let me hear it."

He pursed his lips. "Okay fine. What if I do see her again and I use the fact that she wants to get in my pants to get into her cabin and then I search it while I'm in there?"

"That's a horrific idea."

"You said you wouldn't judge!"

"I didn't know it was gonna be that bad!" she said with a dramatic shrug. "Are you insane? You get into her room and then what? How do you plan on searching her room without her knowing about it?"

He gave her a blank look. "Okay, so it wasn't the greatest idea. I won't...I mean, I'll avoid her. I'll make sure she doesn't see me again. I won't see her again."

Sarah hated herself for the question that was slamming against the inside of her skull. She walked away from him, rounded the bed, and glanced out of the window at the way the sun glimmered off of the sea. And the words came out before she could stop them. "Do you _want_ to see her again?"

She didn't look at him as she waited for his answer. But she didn't have to wait long.

"Nope." It was such a simple, easy answer. Like he hadn't even had to think about it. He didn't say it with any heat or offense, there was no intensity in it as if he was trying to convince her of something that wasn't true. It was just matter-of-fact. And that was what made her believe him with everything in her. The frustrating sting in her chest was still there, though. "I'm a spy, Sarah. As an agent with the NSA, my duty is to the mission. It's about more than just doing my job; this could help a lot of people, whatever is in that briefcase. Getting that key is my priority. That aside, I like to think I'm at least a _somewhat_ good person with a moral compass. Even if I was interested in Hannah Liu, Charles Villanueva is married to Sarah Villanueva and as that is my name according to my identification and passport, I'm staying faithful to my wife—mind, body, and soul."

She glanced back at him as he nodded once, solemnly. She found herself smiling a little at him, and she knew he'd seen it already so she didn't bother trying to stuff it behind her ever-safe mask. "Sarah Villanueva is a lucky girl."

He puffed out his cheeks and tilted his head. "She is, isn't she?"

Giggling, she shook her head, and then the name he'd given her suddenly clicked. "Wait. Hannah Liu. Did you flash on her? Or on her name? Anything on her laptop, since you were looking at it?"

"No, it was all stuff for her company. The website and everything. I didn't flash at all with her."

Sarah had her phone out immediately. Instead of calling Shaw, she dialed Casey. Technically, this wasn't protocol as Shaw was the leader of the team, he was their liaison. But she wanted to take this to Casey because she trusted him to be discreet. And he wouldn't mind going around the CIA to get shit done.

Chuck came to stand beside her and watched as she brought the phone to her ear.

"Casey, secure."

"Walker, secure."

"The hell you doin' callin' me, Walker? If Shaw—"

"Is he there? Is Shaw with you?"

"No. I'm in my apartment. He's at Castle. He's...always at Castle."

"Well, yeah, he lives there."

"I know. It's weird."

"It really is." She widened her eyes. "I need you to look someone up for me," she said then, getting right down to business. "And yeah, I know, I'm not supposed to be coming to you for—"

"Fuck that. I'm at my system. Who ya got?"

She smirked and put it on speakerphone, setting it on the nearby table so Chuck would be privy to the conversation. "Her name is Hannah Liu."

"Lou or Liu? Like the Chinese spelling?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow at Chuck. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Chinese is my guess. She looks like she could be part Chinese maybe."

"On it. Hey, and thanks for the heads up about speakerphone, Walker. Glad I didn't call Chuck a moron or anything while he could hear."

"You call me a moron directly to my face constantly."

"Heh. I do, don't I?"

"Focus," Sarah said, putting a hand on Chuck's chest to stop him from snarking back at Casey. She shook her head minutely at him and he huffed and pouted a little, nodding. Children. She was dealing with children.

"Pretty girl. Did Chuck flash on her? Or is he trying to get a date with her and we're doing a little vetting, Walker?"

She clenched her jaw as Chuck blushed. She didn't blame him for the blush, but she didn't like it all the same. "She might be our mark, Casey. She might have the key. And we want to know more about her."

"Oh. Oh, shit. Okay. She's, uh, let's see... Yale University. Double major in business and communications with a minor in art history. Useless," he grunted. "Totally useless."

"Yeeeeah, well, she seems to be doing just fine," Chuck said, crossing his arms at his chest. Sarah shot a quick look at him and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, right. And her dad giving her his multi-billion dollar shoe business had nothing to do with how fine she seems to be doing," she responded sarcastically.

"That's messed up. What if her dad died?"

"He didn't," Casey cut in, a thread of amusement in his voice. She hated that he was picking up on something here. She could just tell he was. If he made a crack, she'd steal his wheelchair and crutches and he'd be stuck in his apartment forever, sitting on his couch watching Cheers reruns. "He just retired and handed her the reins."

"Oh."

Sarah shot Chuck a satisfied look and he glared a little.

"What else ya got, Casey?" she asked then, leaning with her palms on the desk and hunching forward. Her leg was starting to hurt a bit now that she was awake. She needed to take some more aspirin.

"She spent time in both Sweden and Germany after Yale, acted as a liaison for her pop's shoe business, but also went totally off the face of the earth for three whole years. I've got nothin' on her from her mid-to-late twenties."

"What's that even mean?" Chuck asked.

"It means someone went through and systematically wiped whatever she did from twenty-five to twenty-eight off her timeline. We've got nothin' in our database on her. No idea where she was living, where she was working. No record of her participating at any level of the operations in Liu Footwear Inc. Quick search doesn't even have her filing taxes. At least not here in the U.S…. I could get Interpol to let me know if she paid taxes in another country, but if we don't have that information, I think whoever got rid of it here got rid of it everywhere."

"She's our girl," Sarah said resolutely, turning to give Chuck a look. How in the hell had he managed to sit near the one passenger out of thousands on this floating city who was transporting that damn key to Stromberg's safe? Out of everyone he could have sat next to… Out of everyone he could have attracted to him…

It was almost like he was a magnet for trouble. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad for a spy to have that power. And then she decided she was leaning more towards bad. She'd like the nerd to stay alive past his thirtieth birthday. Keeping him breathing was kind of her whole point of still even being with the CIA, wasn't it? When she'd been so close to quitting altogether a year ago.

Chuck nodded slowly. "Sure sounds like it."

"How'd you find 'er anyway?" Casey asked.

Chuck opened his mouth to answer—she didn't know what in the hell he was going to tell Casey—but she cut him off, sending him a warning look. "We don't have time. Tell you later. We have an op to plan."

"An op within the op," Chuck added.

"Thanks, Casey. And hey, uh… Don't relay this conversation to Agent Shaw, huh? Please."

Casey let out a "Pfft" and snorted. "Like I would."

They hung up and Sarah straightened her spine, stretching a bit before clasping her hands in front of her thoughtfully. "Now that we know her name, we can check the hold first, see if any of her belongings down there might have the key. But my guess is she's keeping it with her in her own cabin. Maybe in a safe or something."

"Yeah. Yeah, good plan." He paused then. "It's a really good thing I'm super bad at napping, otherwise I never would've found her."

She studied him for a moment, then tilted her head with a bob of her eyebrows. "I suppose so. But I meant it about avoiding her, Chuck. Now that we really know she's in cahoots with Stromberg, that she's delivering the key to Frederick Hasselback once she gets to Rio, whatever charm and niceness you saw her up on that pool deck isn't something you can take at face value."

"Why didn't I flash on her, though? Who the hell would be able to get into federal government files to erase three years of a person's existence on paper? Sure, on the Internet and whatever, but getting rid of tax filings? Wiping an NSA database? What the hell?"

Sarah shook her head. "Maybe she had folks on the inside. Or, if she was close with Stromberg, he had it done for her. Can't have his colleague in crime all over everything because of her filthy rich daddy."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll keep in the shadows better. Which reminds me… how are we getting into the hold?"

"We're going to walk down." She supposed she deserved the look he gave her. "I casually asked one of the cruise staff today how I went about retrieving one of my bags from the hold and she said access to the hold will only be reserved for passengers who are accompanied by a crew member."

"So it is being guarded?"

"Maybe."

"Oooo, we can Assassin's Creed it."

"Is that a video game?"

"Yes, you'd love it."

She shook her head. "Look, whatever that means, if it gets us down into that hold, I'm all for it. But if this is a video game with magic, maybe put the idea on the back burner for now because we need a realistic solution."

"Not magic… just distraction."

They waited for nightfall in the safety of their room, having their meals delivered, eating mostly in silence. She felt the brittleness of the air in the suite, around them, between them. It wasn't the most comfortable few hours she'd ever spent. Everything they'd said to one another and the things that remained to be said hovered over their heads, sat in the space in between them.

She was jealous. And it was stupid and unfair of her. She knew it. But it didn't make her any less jealous. She had no right to be. And yet…

It was just that Sarah had a pretty good feeling that no matter what Hannah Liu had gotten involved in as far as Stromberg was concerned, Agent Sarah Walker the Wildcard Enforcer had most likely done worse during her decade in the CIA. The man who'd overseen the worst of it was dead now, but it didn't make the worst of it go away; it still had happened, she'd still done it.

Having Chuck care for her as much as he had—as much as he so obviously still did—didn't make any of it go away either. It didn't absolve her. If anything, with how wholly good and wholesome and honorable he was, it made it all that much worse. The stark contrast between them was overwhelming in scope. Sure, he'd flashed on her before. He'd seen some of what she'd done. And he hadn't run away. He was still here. He still looked at her with that soft look, and those warm eyes.

She saw the ache in him when he thought she wasn't looking. She recognized the same ache in herself. But she couldn't have him. He'd made her want to be better, and not just to be worthy of him, though that was some of it. But in the meantime, she'd allowed his debilitating lack of self-esteem to guide him into a trap, and he'd given up his freedom, his chance to be a normal guy with a normal life, to date a normal girl and have his family and friends be safe again...because he thought it would make a relationship with her—Agent Sarah Walker—possible.

This was bad for him. _They_ were bad for him. And yet she couldn't walk away completely, because she needed to see this through, she needed to make sure he didn't take the steps she'd taken that had made her what she was now. She could still save him from becoming a spy like her, like Casey. She could save him from her.

When it was late enough and the hallway outside of their room quieted down, the footsteps out on the promenade outside their window finally dying out as everyone went to bed, Sarah and Chuck snuck out of their cabin and made quick work of getting back to the hold.

But when they peeked around the corner, there was no one "guarding" the entrance to the staircase into the belly of the _Arosa Empire_. In fact, there was no sign of anyone at all.

"Let's not waste this opportunity," she whispered to him. "Come on."

They raced to the doorway and then slowed at the staircase leading down, taking the steps carefully and quietly, just in case there were crew members inside. She twisted her fingers in Chuck's sleeve and pulled him to the right down the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, and they came to another flight that led even further down.

Sarah leaned over the railing and peered down. The hallway that stemmed off of it was very dimly lit with red lighting and angled in the direction of the back of the ship, which made her think that was the way to the engine and boiler room. "I think that's the way to the boiler room…" She lifted her head and pointed back the way they'd come. "It has to be that way then."

"So what you're saying is we must've taken a wrong toin at Albuquoique," Chuck muttered in a Bugs Bunny accent.

Sarah ignored her partner completely, leading him back down the hallway. She peeked up the staircase as they passed it to make sure the coast was still clear, saw it was, and hurried her step around the corner. "Here we are," she breathed, putting her hand on Chuck's chest to keep him from just waltzing into the room. "Wait," she whispered.

She wasn't taking any chances. Straining to listen, she waited to see if she heard any voices, footsteps, any sign of life inside of the ship's hold. And then she peeked inside. There were crates, boxes, massive trunks, an array of possessions that belonged to the _Arosa Empire_ 's passengers. But she didn't see any crew members or other passengers.

"Okay, it's clear. Just be careful about what you touch, and be careful where you step."

He nodded as they began to pick their way around the hold. "How do we know what belongs to Hannah Liu?" he asked her, keeping his voice low.

"They mark everything with chalk," she muttered back, peering at the sides of the large crates, tiptoeing around trunks that belonged to a passenger named Gregorious, a passenger named Everton, Martinez, Agassi, Pomona…

"Anything yet? There's a lot of shit down here, Sarah. And this hold looks like it goes on for a whole mile."

"I know. Just keep looking. They keep each person's luggage together, unlike on an airplane where they just toss stuff in there randomly, so look for a pile of stuff labeled 'Liu'... And if you end up super far away from me, just whistle."

She heard him sing, "Give a little whistle…" with two low whistles, and she rolled her eyes, unable to keep from smiling just a little as she stooped to look at the chalk on the luggage. They must have been down there combing through the crates and suitcases for fifteen minutes before she heard the whistle.

Standing to her full height, she hurriedly made her way further into the hold, craning her neck as she looked all around to see if she could spot him. "Where are you?" she hissed.

She heard a thump about twenty feet in front of her and Chuck's parted, dark curls popped up over some double-stacked crates. He waved desperately at her and a chill came over her. What did he find?

Racing around the crates, she stopped cold, her blood chilling immediately as she looked down at what he'd found. She knew immediately why he'd had that look on his face.

"Shit."

"Yeah. Yeah, shit." He came to stand beside her and peer down at the mess. "Big shit."

She saw LIU scrawled on the sides of the giant traveling trunk. That wasn't what bothered her. It was the massive lock keeping it shut that had been crushed, lying in pieces on the floor, rendered useless, and the trunk was wide open, everything that had been inside of it strewn about the place. A crate next to it, also with LIU written in chalk on the side of it, had been jimmied open with some crowbar type object, the wood a bit splintered. The contents had been opened and rummaged through.

"Sarah…?"

"I know," she breathed. "They got here first."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please leave us reviews. We appreciate them.

-SC and DC


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N:** Ya'll ain't ready for this. Hell, we aren't, but we're gonna do it anyway.

 **Disclaimer:** We don't own Chuck. We aren't making money here.

* * *

He shivered, looking at the mess, aware of the implications. The Ring knew who Stromberg had given his briefcase's key to. They knew Hannah Liu had the key. They'd broken into her possessions stowed away in the ship's hold. They were a step ahead of him and Sarah.

"Do they have the key?" he asked in a whisper.

"I don't know. Stay here, I'm going to look and see if there are any more of her things that were separated and are nearby." He felt her fingers brush his for a moment and then she split away from him and disappeared off to his right, silent as a ghost.

He cursed to himself under his breath and walked up to the mess, kneeling down and peering at it. He was careful not to touch it, though. He'd seen too many shows on CBS to ever touch anything at a scene like this.

There were memories and mementos of Hannah's life in the U.S., along with pieces of art he imagined were worth quite a bit of money if she was taking them with her. There were a lot of valuable items, in fact, and they'd all been left here...which just underscored the fact that this had been the Ring looking for the key, not a thief.

Valuable jewelry, diamonds, gold, pearls, et cetera had been lifted out of a jewelry box, but only for the apparent purpose of looking under them for the key. But it had all still been left behind.

Chuck heard Sarah come up behind him again.

"They definitely know who Stromberg—" He stopped as he turned to look at her as he spoke, because the barrel of a gun was pointed right between his eyes, and it wasn't Sarah standing there, but another blonde, a male blonde wearing black pants and a dusty navy blue button-up shirt. It was a boiler room crew member… Or, he silently amended, a Ring agent who'd stolen a uniform. "Oh, hi. Is this the salon? I was looking for the ship's salon. Hair's getting a bit shaggy. I guess this isn't it, huh? My mistake."

He tried to stand up, but the Ring agent painfully prodded Chuck in the forehead with the pistol and knocked him off of his haunches onto his backside. "Don't fuckin' move. We were told CIA might be here, but I didn't think I'd have the pleasure of being the one to run into them."

"CI-what? I-I don't—"

"Shut up!" the Ring agent snapped. "I wanna know—"

Before he could get another word out, Chuck saw a flash of metal and the agent jerked to the side, his eyelids fluttering before he hit the floor just as quickly. He lay there, unmoving, as Chuck cast his wide eyes up at Sarah. She was quick to pounce as the Ring agent began to come to again after the blow he took to the head. And with deft hands, she took his pistol and searched his pockets, tossing another gun to Chuck, as well as a silencer. She pulled the leg of her pants up and slipped the knife she took from the Ring agent's belt into the knife holder strapped to her shin, letting the flowy material fall back to cover it.

Chuck shook himself a little and looked at the floor around him, spotting some coiled rope. He lunged for it, grabbing it and holding it up. When he caught Sarah's gaze, he tossed it to her with a "Here".

"Good idea," she panted, and he scrambled over to help her bind the Ring agent before he was alert enough to know what was happening. When his dark eyes snapped open and he realized his predicament, he opened his mouth as if to cry out for help. Chuck was quick to smother it by clamping his hand down over the man's mouth.

"Now," Sarah said, a smug look in her eyes that glinted with the threat she posed to this man's well-being, "you get to tell us what _we_ wanna know." She slowly screwed the silencer she'd taken from one of the Ring agent's pockets onto the gun he'd also had and pressed it against his temple, making him whimper. "You try to scream for help, all I have to do is pull this trigger and you're gone. It'll make no difference to us. We've already done away with one of you and they'll never find his body."

The agent nodded a bit, sweating. Sarah gestured to Chuck with a subtle flick of her head, and he eased his hand away from the man's face.

"Did you do this?" She gestured to the mess around them. When he didn't respond, merely looking at her with defiance, Chuck decided he'd just let Sarah take the lead on this. The guy was toast. Truly. "I asked you a question," she said through a clenched jaw, pressing the gun to his temple even harder.

He whimpered and nodded.

"What did you find?" He didn't respond. "Did you find what you were looking for?" He shook his head, his eyes casting to the side to look at the barrel of the gun pressed to his head. "Were you sent here to go through her things?"

"Y-Y-Yes."

"By the Ring?"

He gulped, shut his eyes tight, and nodded. Chuck could almost hear the struggle happening in the guy's head. What was worse, being shot here in the hold of a cruise ship? Or having to face his superiors later and maybe get offed then for telling the CIA about the Ring's operations.

"Look. Look, man. We-We want to help you." Chuck licked his lips, ignoring the questioning look on Sarah's face. But she didn't cut him off or question him verbally. She let him go. "We're the good guys. We don't want to hurt you. How long has the Ring known who has the key to Stromberg's briefcase?"

The agent spat on the floor near Chuck. Well, that didn't work.

"Answer his question," Sarah growled.

"We just found out this morning."

"We? How many of you are there?" Chuck asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" And then he smirked. "Enough. You kill me, there will be more of us. We know who we're after."

"You know who but you still don't have the key," Sarah said, her blue eyes crackling in the dim lighting of the hold.

"Neither do you…" He frowned then. "Do you?"

"No."

"Wouldn't you like to kn—Seriously?" Sarah groused at Chuck as he answered truthfully simultaneously with her attempt to beat around the bush. Chuck winced. _Woops._

"You won't win. We'll find the key. You're amateurs. Especially him."

"Shut up," Sarah snapped, and it almost felt like she was sticking up for him. He was going to think of it that way. "You're talking about your one hope of surviving this run-in with the CIA. He cares about the sanctity of your life in a way I definitely don't."

"Then kill me, Blondie." When she jammed the gun into his head, her finger twitched, and he was rendered whimpering again. "D-Don't, no no. No. Please…"

And then there was a quiet snapping sound, and the Ring agent's arm swung up from under him, the ropes severed, a knife they hadn't found on him before clutched in the man's fist. Sarah was quick to lean back, but the knife clashed into the pistol she held and knocked it out of her grip.

Chuck tried to pounce on it, but the Ring agent got there first.

Before he could bring it up to sink a bullet between Chuck's eyes, a knife sliced through his upper arm and pinned him to the crate behind him.

Chuck tossed the extra gun across to Sarah and she snatched it out of the air, but before she could get a shot off, the Ring agent tore the sleeve, and maybe even some of his arm, out of the grip of the knife that had pinned him and dove behind a row of containers.

"Chuck, take cover!" Sarah rushed, and Chuck didn't think twice about diving behind the nearest crate. There was a soft _fwip fwip_ and the crunching sound of bullets hitting wood, sending chips falling down onto his hair.

Chuck yelped, ducking even lower.

There was a crashing sound then, a struggle, the _fwip fwip_ of the Ring agent's gun going off again, the sound of Sarah grunting, and then nothing. Silence. Terrifying silence.

"Sarah?" he asked as loud as he dared.

"Chuck, are you okay?"

"Are you?" he asked, scrambling up from behind the crates and rushing around them. He turned the corner and found the agent splayed out on the ground on his back, one of Sarah's throwing knives in his chest. He coughed one last time, a splash of blood appearing on his lip, and then his body seemed to almost deflate, his eyes dimming. He was dead. "S-Sarah?"

"Behind you."

Chuck spun to see her leaning back against Hannah's trunk, slumped a bit, relief in her face. He dove down next to her and grabbed her shoulder with one hand, cupping her face with the other. "You okay? Did he get you? Are you shot? I heard him—"

But she was shaking her head. "He missed. He's a shit shot. Ring getting recruits from the bottom of the barrel apparently." Her quivering lips twitched a bit at the ends. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and just hold her, he was so relieved.

He didn't. He just raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, stroking his fingers down her face a bit reverently. If she noticed she didn't show it, instead just gesturing with her chin past his shoulder. "We have to hide that body and hide the evidence that anyone was in her luggage. And then we need to get back to our cabin and regroup."

"Right. You think we need to worry about them getting into her cabin?"

"Not right now. They think their man is down here finding the key as we speak. And we need to make sure they keep thinking that for as long as possible. They don't know we're on this ship for sure. The only two agents who've made us are dead."

"And they don't have an Intersect to identify us the way we do to identify them," he said with a bit of a crooked smirk.

"Exactly."

They were quick about it then as he helped her to her feet, noting she was a bit shaky standing at first. And he wondered what went through her mind every time she killed someone, if it screwed with her head, if she felt sick. Even though he knew she'd done it dozens of times before, he couldn't imagine someone like Agent Sarah Walker was unmoved by it. She was just good at doing her job, good at appearing unfazed, good at focusing to complete the mission. But when she was alone with her own thoughts… What happened then?

They picked the body up and carried it along the wall, carefully stepping over pipes, before Sarah gestured over to a dark corner behind a large generator. "There," she panted, and she grunted with the weight of the Ring agent's legs as they quickly carried him over and dropped his body unceremoniously wedged behind it.

"How long until they find him?" he asked as she reached in and carefully plucked her knife from where it had stuck itself in the enemy agent's chest.

"Probably the end of the trip. If we're lucky, we'll be off of this deathtrap and long gone before they do." She used the dead man's shirt to wipe her knife as best as she could, then slipped it into the holster at her shin again.

He nodded and gulped, feeling a sick lump in his throat. He willed the sensation away and followed Sarah back to Hannah Liu's trunk, helping shove everything back into it.

"Is the lock salvageable?" he asked as they swung the trunk shut again and Sarah picked the padlock up to slip it back in place. She pushed at it and seemed to stay.

"It's not locked, but it at least won't look like it's been tampered with at first glance. You'd have to tug on it."

He nodded. And then they moved back to the crate to shove everything back in place and carefully lift the plank that had been pulled away to close it again.

"What do we do about this?" Sarah asked. "It won't stay. This ship is constantly rocking, especially down here. It'll just fall open again. The nail's busted."

Chuck pushed his free hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Here. Let me try to wedge it a bit. They won't even notice if they're walking past. Move for a sec."

She stepped away and he grabbed the wall of the crate that had been opened, shifting it, then jamming it in a way that wedged the corner inside. It didn't look great but it wasn't terrible.

"That's good," Sarah said, nodding satisfactorily. "Good work."

But as she moved away from him, he slipped his fingers around hers and held on. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, blue eyes widening in question. "You saved me," he said quietly.

"You don't have to thank me every time," she said with a small smile. He saw the warmth in her eyes. He quashed the urge to hug her again. Or to say something, anything, that made any of this easier. But he just nodded and let her go. "Come on."

But as they neared the doorway back to the stairwell, he heard voices, and the tell-tale sound of boots hitting the steps.

"Shit!" he heard Sarah breathe. But she'd frozen. They were out in the open, and in two seconds, they'd be caught.

Chuck glanced around, spotted a nook in the wall behind a tangle of red water pipes, and didn't think twice. He grabbed Sarah with both hands on her waist and swung her out of view, slipping behind the pipes into the darkness of the nook so that his back was pressed to the wall, and tugging her front against his.

"I heard it down here. I'll take a look. You check the fire room."

"Sir."

They would be seen here. The crew member was coming in closer. Sarah was tense in his arms. She knew it too. He could feel it. They would be found. They were both sweaty, frazzled… There was nothing more suspicious than their presence here where passengers weren't supposed to be...except maybe their appearance.

He had less than a second to act. The shadow of the crew member loomed large on the opposite wall.

Chuck tightened his arms around Sarah and spun them around, pinning her back to the wall and covering her lips with his. She let out a surprised gasp, her hands up by her shoulders. And as he opened his mouth against hers, the shock melted away from her figure, her hands grabbed at his face to yank him in, and her tongue swept over his. He distantly felt one of her legs wrap around his waist and give him a strong tug so that his body pressed harder into hers and he moaned quietly into her kiss.

He dragged a hand down to yank at the silky blouse she wore, pulling it out of her high pants and belt, letting her feel his hot, clammy fingers against her soft, cool skin above her waistline, and she whimpered.

Chuck heard the footsteps stop, and the beam from a flashlight swept over them. Sarah gasped and pulled away, bringing a hand up to cover her face. Chuck blinked and glanced over his shoulder.

"Oh… Uh…"

"What the hell you two doing in the hold? Passengers can't come down here!" the man with the bushy mustache said in a stern voice.

"S-Sorry, we're sorry, sir. We didn't know. Nobody was… Uh…" He pulled his hand out from under Sarah's shirt and stepped back a little, keeping Sarah close nevertheless. "We wanted to make out and our cabin is on the other side of the ship, so we saw a staircase and … We're sorry, we didn't know."

"There aren't any signs," Sarah squeaked in a small voice. She was breathing hard. And as he snuck a glance, he saw that she had her fingers covering her forehead.

"This-This is my wife." Chuck cleared his throat, not really sure why that had been his response.

"Sure, pal. Look, I don't care what is going on in your personal life. You can't be down here, so if you'd please...get back up there and go back to your cabins."

"Right. Sure. Of course. We're—We're just really sorry."

"Won't happen again, officer," Sarah chirped as they snuck out from behind the pipes.

The crew member rolled his eyes and shook his head. Chances were, he wasn't an officer of any kind, but Sarah was really good at playing innocent and dumb. She was also really, really good at kissing, and how was he even getting his limbs to work?

He was going to be in a lot of trouble, he knew. But then she'd also grabbed him back. Her fingers had gone into his curls at one point, and she hadn't shied away from using tongue, either. Then there was the thing she'd done with her leg to pull him in closer…

"Sorry!" he called over his shoulder again.

"Yeah, yeah… Don't let me see you in here again, or I'll be taking down your names and we'll have problems. Got it?" the crew member called after them.

"Yessir!"

"Got it!"

Chuck held onto Sarah's hand tightly as they rushed up the stairs. And another crew member met them at the top. He lifted a finger to speak to them but Chuck cut him off with an "Ahoy!" and a salute, before they hurried down the hall and continued around the corner.

There was a lot happening inside of him. And he didn't know how to properly address any of it. They'd just had a run-in with another Ring agent who'd been searching Hannah Liu's luggage. Sarah had killed him in a gun fight with a throwing knife which just… he wasn't going to think to hard on that lest he lose his entire God damn mind. They'd stuffed his body in a corner behind a generator. And they'd almost been caught. They _had_ been caught, but he'd acted quickly and he'd pulled Sarah—Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA, the woman he'd been in love with for a year—into a kiss that he could still feel the effects from. The feeling of her lips on his, her arms around him, fingers in his hair… He could still feel the pressure of her leg wrapped around his waist. And he had the soft whimper she'd emitted emblazoned into his brain.

He took a deep breath.

There was a dead man in the hold of the ship. A dead man who'd tried to kill them. The Ring was a step ahead of them, but they still didn't have the key at least. They knew about Hannah Liu, however, which compounded on the pressure of this mission.

And that kiss had lit a raging fire inside of him.

More than the raging fire, however, it was her response to the kiss that was at the forefront of his thoughts. She had responded. She'd definitely responded and even took it to the next level.

He wasn't sure how to deal with that. He didn't know if it was best to just pretend it never happened or to broach the subject. Granted, they were on a ship with the top of South America on the horizon and he knew there was nowhere Sarah could really run to if he brought it up and it freaked her out. No human being could swim that.

He shook himself a little. What in the hell was going on in his brain? She wasn't going to physically run. But she could shut herself away. Those walls he was so used to with her would close up around her and he'd never be able to get her to lower them around him again. That might happen.

God, he was a mess. That had been so good and he was a complete and total mess.

"They don't have the key," Sarah said. "That's the biggest thing we need to take away from what just happened."

Was it? He wasn't so sure. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "That and the fact that they know Hannah Liu is Stromberg's key mule."

"Yeah, that's bad."

When they got to their cabin door a moment later, they stopped. And they both seemed to realize at the same time that their hands were still clasped tightly together. Chuck slowly turned to glance down at their hands, their fingers intertwined. Their knuckles were white from how tightly they were clinging. Was it the passion from that kiss spilling over that made them hold on so tightly? Or was it a need for reassurance, comfort? Chuck had a feeling it was both. Maybe she was drowning just like he was. In fact, as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers, he could see it all swirling in her eyes, like a maelstrom in the middle of the bluest of seas. There was no maybe about it. They were both completely lost at sea—no pun intended.

They let go of one another's hand at the same time and he cleared his throat, looking down at the floor at his feet.

"I've got it," Sarah said, stepping in front of him with her key in hand, unlocking the door and opening it wide.

They both slid into the room and turned on the light, and as she shut the door behind him, the telltale thunk of the lock being securely fastened, he was hit with an onrush of fear.

When he spun on his heels to face her, she jumped a bit at the suddenness of it and looked at him with wide eyes. He knew immediately that she was terrified he would bring up the kiss. Her body went tense, her shoulders pulled up as if she was bracing herself for impact.

Any idea he might've had about asking her what the hell that kiss was melted away. And instead, he huffed and pushed his hand through his hair. "What is our next move here? Do we alert the captain and make sure Hannah has protection? Someone guarding her room, making sure some 'accident' doesn't befall her?" he asked, tossing the air quotes up with his fingers.

Sarah eased back and leaned into the door, relief in her face. It made his chest feel constricted and empty all at once. "We can't alert the captain or any of the crew about any of this. The CIA isn't supposed to be on this boat, and honestly, we don't have any authority here. There are different rules and regulations—maritime law or whatever."

"So what you're saying is if we bring this up to the captain, he could decide to have us tossed into the brig."

She gave him a flat look. "Something like that. No, we have to figure this out without alerting the ship crew, and without alerting Hannah herself. And especially without alerting the Ring. We've taken out two of their agents now, and hopefully that's helped keep them from knowing we're here for sure."

"We know they think we might be."

"Yes. But that 'might' is what's saving us for the time being," she said, and then she hurried over to the window and untied the curtains so that they flopped shut to cover the window. "We just need to find that key and, as callous as it may sound, not worry about what might or might not happen to Hannah Liu." She paused and turned to give him a long look over her shoulder. "Do you think you can do that? Are you okay with it?"

He thought for a moment, his brow furrowed. "This has nothing to do with my run-in with her, but I hate the idea of prioritizing a mission over someone's life. It doesn't matter who it is. We don't know her story or why she fell in with Stromberg. She might be innocent. Letting the Ring get to her while we search for a stupid freakin' key doesn't sit well with me. I just want to get that out there."

The corner of her mouth turned up a bit, and he wasn't sure but there was maybe some relief in her face. But it was gone just as quickly. "Your feelings are noted…"

"But that's still what we're gonna do, huh?" he asked quietly, resigned. "Find the key, screw what happens to the maybe-innocent person caught in the crosshairs."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. All I can do is make a promise that I'm going to do everything I possibly can to make sure what we do doesn't directly put her in danger of being harmed. We have to assume she knew what she was getting herself into, otherwise she wouldn't have hidden this key so well. She knows the danger and seriousness of her task. She knew the risk when Stromberg gave her the key."

He nodded. "I know. I'm not mad at ya. For the record. This just feels…"

"Wrong. Yeah. But a lot of this job is about—"

"I know, I know," he drawled, sighing and plopping down on the arm of the couch in the middle of the room. "The spy life means having to do stuff like this that isn't going to feel like the right thing. I know. I made the decision to join the NSA. And maybe I didn't know the full scope of what I'd have to do, but I'm learning."

Sarah was quiet. "Chuck, there are some things you're going to have to learn in order to survive out here in the field." He hung his head a little. "But… there are also things you don't have to learn." He lifted his head again and gave her a long look. She glanced away, swallowing hard. "I'm okay with you not learning to accept these moments where we have to put a mission ahead of human lives. Just...for the record. Especially if that life is your own. Okay? You, um, you don't have to lose that in order to be a good spy."

He stared at her for a long time, waiting, and when she finally, tentatively, lifted her blue eyes to meet his across the room, anything that he might've said in response to her fluttered out of his brain altogether. So that the thing that came out of his mouth wasn't planned at all. "Is that something you've learned to accept, Sarah?"

She looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I...don't know."

That wasn't true and they both knew it. Chuck nibbled on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Sarah, you can tell me the truth. I'm not going anywhere and you know it. Even if I tried to, I'd have to be Aquaman to reach Venezuela without drowning." That didn't have the desired reaction. She just stared off to the side, blinking a lot, as if she hadn't heard his quip at all. "Sarah," he tried again, and she swung her gaze back to his. "Have you learned to accept it?"

"How am I supposed to answer that, Chuck?"

"With the truth," he said, shrugging as if it was the easiest thing in the world. "Knowing that when you tell me the truth, I'm not gonna judge or think you're as terrible as you think you are."

Her eyes widened at that, and she eased away from the door, slowly crossing the room, and she carefully lowered herself to sit on the coffee table in front of the couch, staring straight ahead. She looked numb. "I've been doing this for over ten years, Chuck. I've had practice, a lot of it, and now I guess I've learned how to...prioritize a mission over… whatever might happen to people along the way. Including myself." She swallowed hard. "There. Is that the truth you're looking for?"

There was nothing hard or sarcastic in her last words. So he nodded and shifted his weight so that he was still sitting on the arm of the couch, but facing her better. "Yeah. And I'm still sitting here. And I still think you're a good spy and an even better person."

She scoffed and shook her head. "You make it sound so easy, and it just isn't, Chuck. Like you can sit there and say it's okay and that makes it...okay. It doesn't."

"Sarah, I can only speak for myself. I don't know or-or care about what anybody else might say about it."

"You aren't like this, Chuck," she interrupted, pressing her fingers to her chest "You aren't like me. You aren't like Casey. Or Shaw. Or any of the spies I've met in the last ten years. You don't accept the concept of prioritizing a mission over someone's life, even when you don't know them or know if they're even innocent."

He just sat there quietly, not really knowing what she was getting at. She pushed a hand through her hair and sighed in frustration.

"You say that it's okay with you, but what if it isn't? Let's stop beating around the bush, Chuck. You have feelings for me. You-You put me up on a pedestal in spite of the shit you saw in that flash all those months ago, in spite of what you've seen with your own eyes since then. I just threw a knife into a man's heart and forced you to help me hide his body." Chuck fought back the shiver at the reminder. "And now I'm telling you to put the success of this mission over the safety of someone you obviously liked a little—don't try to deny it, Chuck, you're very transparent." He ducked his head and frowned. Maybe he did find Hannah a little likable, but not enough to have flirted back when he'd had every opportunity to do so. "Chuck, your feelings for me have made you look past... a lot. And those feelings have been a catalyst for some...big decisions you've made, especially recently. Don't try to deny that, either."

Shit. He couldn't. He couldn't deny that last part. But the first… "Sure. Okay. Maybe I did join the NSA…" He changed his tack. "You were a big part of my decision to become a spy. I won't deny that. And yeah, sometimes when you...care about someone...in the way I care about you...you tend to get blinders, you don't see the bad stuff. But that's not what this is. I promise it isn't," he added in a rush when she looked incredibly dubious. "Look, Sarah, I know—maybe more than anybody else in the world knows—that it's crazy unrealistic to expect perfection from anybody. The world isn't perfect, none of us are perfect. I don't think you're perfect and I don't expect you to be. Because I'm not perfect, either. Just in...different ways."

She gave him a flat look. "Chuck, come on. I kill people. Yeah, it's… Greater good and all that shit. But stop acting like that's the same as...I dunno, having a bad habit of biting my nails."

He didn't know how to respond. So he just rubbed his hands down his pants and sighed. "So what is this, Sarah?" he asked finally when she didn't say anything either. "Because I kissed you down in the hold to save our asses from being caught, but you kissed me back."

"Chuck, don't do that. Not right now."

"Don't do what, Sarah? I initiated the kiss, but everything else was you."

"Chuck…"

"There was tongue involved, too. A lot of tongue."

"I know," she said, cutting him off with her voice a little raised. She shut her eyes and sighed, pushing her hand through her hair again. "I know. I lost control. Okay? I'm human. It happens."

"If you hadn't wanted to kiss me back, you wouldn't have."

"Of course I wanted to, but that isn't important!"

Chuck pushed himself off of the arm of the couch and got onto his knees in front of her, feeling a desperation rise in his chest. "Yes it is. It is important. If we both want something, why can't it happen? Why aren't we letting it happen?"

"Because it can't happen." He felt his heart sink and it must have shown on his face because she reached down and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I made my decision to stay on and help you with training, to be the best partner I can possibly be for you. I made a promise to protect you; the fact that you're an NSA agent now isn't going to change that. I'm going to stay here and get you through all of this, but I can't keep slipping like this."

"Slipping? Sarah, you're—"

"Chuck, I can't see a path that includes us in that way that won't end in your destruction, in the destruction of everything that makes you great. Look around you. We're on a ship surrounded by Ring agents. You just had to hide a dead body. You were shot at. You wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't made a decision based on feelings you have for me."

"This is the spy life," he argued. "I knew things would be dangerous. I was shot at before, when becoming an agent wasn't even slightly on my radar and I was just a guy who worked at the Buy More and had a super computer database in his head."

"Chuck, this isn't up for negotiation."

He slumped and shook his head. "You think I'm putting you on some pedestal, Sarah, but the reality is you're doing that to me. I'm no saint. Yeah, I believe in doing the right thing, but not everything is black and white. And I understand that. And I care about you. You. Not some idealized unrealistic personification of a blond Emma Peel. I accept everything that comes with that. That's my choice to make. Not yours." When she didn't respond, and instead just watched him quietly, her lips pressed together in a thin line, he sighed and reached up to squeeze her hand. "But you've made yours, I see. For now."

He couldn't help adding that last bit. And she'd noticed it, he could tell. She arched an eyebrow just a bit. But he wasn't done with this. He wasn't going to push anymore, not tonight. But he wasn't going to let her keep deciding what was right for him. He was a grown man and he'd decide for himself.

He squeezed her hand one more time and stood up, walking into the bedroom and grabbing his pajamas from his suitcase to take a shower.

She was right for him. She even wanted him. That was all he needed to know for now. Sooner or later, they were going to fix this together. He'd get through to her, as stubborn as she was. Because he was stubborn, too.

}o{

She hadn't felt safe about them falling asleep without doing more than just bolting the door. So they'd worked together to jam the couch up against it as well, wedging the back of the couch under the doorknob in case the Ring had a crew member with access to guest cabin keys in their midst. It wasn't hard to imagine the Ring agents on board were working overtime to get that key, and to eliminate anything that stood in their way. And while that meant Hannah Liu, it also meant the federal agents that were also most likely on board the cruise ship.

True to his word, Chuck hadn't broached the conversation from earlier again. But he was quieter, more contemplative. He'd studied the layout of the ship at their table while she took a long bath and eventually emerged in one of the long silk robes, tied tightly around her figure.

Chuck pointed out where Hannah Liu's cabin was on the ship, then surmised it was really the only place where she could've hidden the key. And perhaps it wasn't hidden at all. Maybe she simply locked it away in a safe in her cabin because she figured it was the best way to protect it from getting into the wrong hands.

She'd agreed with him, and they'd decided they would try to break in the next day.

Now Sarah was curled up in bed, her back to him as she heard his heavy breathing—not quite a snore—behind her. He was fast asleep. She couldn't sleep. Not a wink. Because there were Ring agents everywhere. The one who'd tried to kill them in the hold earlier may or may not have been found by the ship crew, or by his fellow agents, by now. And if that was the case, they'd know CIA had done it. She figured it was only a matter of time before they figured out who the spies were. And when they did, it'd take more than a heavy couch and a few flimsy antique locks to keep them out.

She didn't want this nineteen-forties themed cruise ship to be where she died. She wasn't ready to meet her maker yet. She hadn't been before, and she especially wasn't now. And damn literally everything, but it had a lot to do with the look on Chuck's face as he'd knelt in front of her, insisting that they were both imperfect as if she didn't know that, beseeching her to consider the idea that they could be together even with those imperfections. Listening but dismissing her when she gave him what she thought was an incredibly good reason that a real relationship between them would end in the ruination of Chuck Bartowski. He'd become NSA Agent Carmichael, the nerd all but replaced by a killer, someone who put the mission first, ahead of everything else. The way she did. The way Casey did. At worst, he'd be killed because his feelings for her would cause him to do something stupid out in the field.

As he let out a deep sigh and shifted in his sleep, stilling again as she braced herself, she let her eyes shut and she turned her face into her pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could and pressed her lips together in a hard line, gripping her pillow in a tight fist and twisting it. Her chest ached. Her body was sore from earlier. And she hated herself for wanting to just turn over and wrap herself up in his embrace for some semblance of comfort.

The same comfort she'd felt sitting on that coffee table, feeling his gentle, large hand close over hers and squeeze reassuringly. When he'd relented understandingly, after telling her point blank that he was choosing to care about her, choosing to believe she was a good person...and that it was his choice, not hers. But he'd climbed up from his knees to his full height, his warm hand surrounding hers, and then he'd let her be.

That …

The fact that he'd given her space after giving her a piece of his mind, removed himself from the room altogether, was more jarring than most of the rest of it. The calmness with which he'd left her alone to brood, combined with those two words he'd said before he'd walked away, made her feel like something was about to happen. And it would have little to do with the Ring.

Agent Sarah Walker also couldn't stop thinking about the way Chuck had so willingly admitted to her that he hated the idea of finding the key and letting Hannah Liu be dangled as bait for the Ring in the meantime. He might've liked the key smuggler when he'd first met her a little; and it irked her that she felt a spike of ire about that. But she knew it wasn't Hannah personally, as much as it was just that she was a human being who could be in serious danger. Even the mere possibility that she was innocent made him want to protect her from the Ring operatives on board.

In spite of the training he'd received from Major John Casey of the NSA, the distant mentorship of General Beckman, and the lessons Sarah'd been teaching him herself, Chuck's altruistic nature was still intact. For now. Would it last? If so, how long? It had to falter eventually.

But what if it didn't?

What if Chuck was strong enough?

And that was what kept getting stuck in her brain, the roots growing further and further into her chest, curling and tangling in her ribcage, surrounding her heart. He'd stepped onto a dangerous—perhaps even deadly—path because he loved her. And he was obviously set on staying on said path. And she realized as she laid there with his warmth just inches away from her that she wasn't so sure he was continuing with all of this because he wanted to prove he could be a spy to Casey, Beckman, his family...to her, even to himself. The way he'd studied the blueprints of the ship without being tasked with it, how analytically he was approaching the problems, the way he was putting his all into this—it wasn't just survival, it wasn't fear. He was being an agent—a good agent. He was as good at this as she'd admitted to herself he would be—an admission she'd made early on in this operation, when he was just a supervisor of the Burbank Buy More's Nerd Herd. He was as good at it as she'd feared he'd be.

The fear was ebbing now, though, because he was a spy, or at least he was deep in the midst of training to be a spy, and there was nothing she could do to change that. And the better he was at this, the easier it would be to protect him. It was a lot less work protecting someone who could protect himself, and that was a fact.

And Sarah couldn't help wondering—thanking whatever godlike entity was up there that Chuck Bartowski couldn't read her mind—how letting herself act on the deep and intense feelings she had for him, the way she'd slipped in the hold when he'd pressed his lips to hers, might change the job she'd tasked herself with. Would it be easier or harder to keep him safe if they were...really together? That had never been something she'd had to agonize over before. Bryce had been...whatever. And sex had always just been sex. There'd never been strings attached to whatever connection she'd had with men before.

How would it change things if she allowed the strings to take hold and sneak under her skin, inside of her, the way she knew it would with Chuck. It was just how things went with him. Nothing was easy, nothing was surface level. It was all complicated and came with multitudes of layers when it came to Chuck. Everything felt intense and unlike anything else she'd ever experienced in her life. She was so out of her depth. She was confused. She was still hurt. And, frankly, she was afraid. She was always afraid with him...and maybe it was because she so often caught herself slipping into a state of comfort and safety with him. That in and of itself was frightening. How easily she ceded control, lowered her guard, when it was just the two of them.

There was just so much that could go wrong. And he would end up getting the worst of it.

But she still wanted him so badly it hurt.

Sarah shifted onto her back and opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. And then she turned her head to look at Chuck, sleeping soundly in spite of the dangers surrounding them, in spite of the Ring being a step ahead of them. Almost as if he had faith in her, in their partnership.

Or maybe he was just tired. She silently scoffed at herself and unconsciously reached over to push one of his curls away from his forehead. He didn't budge thankfully, and she let her arm flop back down to the mattress with a huff.

She fell asleep that way a few minutes later, exhaustion catching up with her in spite of her mind racing and fretting about so many different things. The least of which being the man sleeping beside her, and whether the things he'd said to her were merely just what he believed...or if he was right.

The implications of that settled in her mind as she drifted off, the fingers of her right hand brushing against the back of his left hand as she went limp with sleep.

}o{

She wasn't sure what ultimately woke her up.

If it was the extra weight over her midsection, the extra warmth that no mere sheet or coverlet could provide, the feeling of the hair at the nape of her neck fluttering in the soft, wispy breath escaping his lips as he slept.

She wasn't even sure if she was awake or if she was trapped in some dream, half-asleep. If this was real or not. She was afraid to move, afraid to open her eyes. Because if she did, the pure and unfiltered comfort flooding her might go away. And she didn't want it to.

Her eyes still shut, she finally shifted, sighing as her movements naturally pushed her back even closer into his front. His even breathing caught in his chest as if he was waking up...but even in his half-sleep, his arm that had been draped over her body wound tighter around her torso and pulled her in even closer… Perhaps he was reaching for that comfort she felt immediately upon waking up. Or he was just reaching for her.

She slid her hand out from under where he'd draped his, too groggy to think of the implications of it, that he'd taken hold of her hand at some point during the night. But instead of pulling away from him altogether, she simply covered his hand with hers instead and threaded their fingers together.

He moved against her and she knew he was awake. She felt the hitch in his breath, his chest pressed flush against her back, his body freezing as if afraid to move, that if he moved she would shove herself away from him, roll out of the bed, and run out of the room altogether.

But she merely held onto his hand even tighter, squeezing. Wordlessly, he slid his leg that was trapped between hers up a bit, and she felt his hips nudge her backside.

And when his nose brushed the spot just under her ear, his lips resting softly against her neck just under her hairline, there was a moment when every fear she'd ever had about this man, about how he affected her, about her loss of control, the raw emotions he awakened in her, rushed to the surface. And just as quickly, it was all gone. As if it had never been there in the first place.

He pressed a real kiss to her neck and she squeezed his hand again, shutting her eyes tight. And then she snapped them open and twisted her body so that she could turn her head and look up into his face.

His brown eyes were fully awake, flashing with the same warmth that had always been there when he looked at her. But there was something else there too...crackling at the edges of his golden irises. She felt the same something inside of her come unhinged.

And before she could say or do anything about it, he dove in to kiss her, his lips fervent and wanton immediately. All she could do was lie there as he rolled half on top of her, her hands up by her shoulders in shock and surrender.

All Chuck had to do was slide a gentle hand in to cup her face and the shock slipped away, the surrender morphing into utter desire, desperation even. His other hand draped over her hip, his fingers slipping under the hem of her camisole she wore, so cool against her warm skin.

The clouds parted. Her brain was lit with an electric current, and as it spread through her body, her hands came to life...every last bit of her came to life.

Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA, Graham's Wildcard Enforcer, wrapped one arm around Chuck Bartowski's shoulders and slapped her other hand over the back of his neck to pull his face in even closer to hers, kissing him back hard.

Any and all thoughts she'd had in her head flew out the window and got lost to the sea.

When she twisted her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck, he let out a soft whimpering sound, his desperation for her lighting a fire in her stomach. And all she could do was hold onto him even tighter as he pushed his arms around her, one winding around her lower back, the other around her shoulders. He cradled her so close, opening his mouth over hers, and she just clung to him, letting herself bask in the safety of his tight embrace, feeling any and all walls she'd had up through this entire mission crack and buckle under the weight of his...God, just everything. His everything.

He was forced to break for air and she gasped into his lips, their noses brushing. She stroked her hand down his face and cupped his chin, trusting herself to open her eyes and look up at him. What she saw in his face, his furrowed brow, the passion in his heated gaze, made her breathe a quiet, "Chuck…" Her voice caught in her throat…

And then she lunged for him, aching to taste him as she pushed her tongue between his lips. His leg that was bracing against the mattress between her own legs, lifted and nudged her left thigh so that she had to wrap it around his waist. And because she wasn't willing to relinquish _all_ of her control, she let go of his shoulder and pushed her hand against the bed, forcing her weight against him and swinging him onto his back. He caught himself with his elbow against the mattress, his lips smiling for just a moment under hers, but then he pushed himself to sit up, one hand sliding up her back under her top, the other stroking her hair out of the way and just holding her face against his as they kissed ravenously.

Sarah situated herself onto her knees over him, letting him catch all of her weight against him as she draped her arms around him and leaned into his chest. When the hand that wasn't up her top slipped down to her bare thigh, squeezing her there in a way that made a shiver wrack her body, she felt herself give in to him again.

And as she went limp, her body tilted to the side. Even as he kissed her with everything in him, he caught her, a steady, safe arm oh so slowly lowering her back to the mattress and leaning down with her, never once breaking his lips from hers.

She wrapped both of her legs around his waist and clung harder to him than she'd clung to anyone ever. She held onto him like all of this might end at any moment, taking every last drop of himself he offered to her, and giving all of hers back in a rush of adrenaline.

Grabbing his hip, she pulled his front hard into hers, wanting his weight on her, feeling his warmth, the heaviness of his lithe body pressing her into the mattress. And as his hands closed around her waist, his fingers gripping her hard, he thrusted himself against her. She threw her head back with a whimper, breaking the kiss. Which afforded him prime access to her neck, and he didn't let the opportunity pass him by, letting her feel his lips and tongue against her pulse point.

He kissed up her jaw and slammed his lips against hers again, simultaneously thrusting his hips into hers once more. She pulled back from the kiss, gasping, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, hovering over her, looking down into her face. There was awe there, and then a slow, heated, purely ecstatic smile pulled at his lips. She smiled back at him, taking a deep, necessary breath and letting it out in a huff.

Chuck seemed as if he might just stay like that forever, grinning hard at her, so she leaned up and grabbed his face, smashing her lips into his again, falling back against the pillows and dragging him along with her.

She wanted more of him. She wanted all of him.

So she reached down with both hands and grappled with the hem of his shirt, twisting her fists in the cotton and yanking it up his back, feeling his heated, smooth skin beneath, spurred on by the groan he emitted.

And as he leaned up, desperately grabbing at his shirt to pull it up to his shoulders, she saw as it caught on his chin and nose, stalled by his wide shoulders…

She laid her hands on his abdomen, her fingers stroking feather light touches along his muscles there.

And then there was a piercing, ear-splitting sound that shattered the air around them.

* * *

 **A/N:** It's gettin hot in here! *Feels SC glaring at him.* Too soon?

Please review. Thanks, folks!

-SC and DC


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